


Eternal Tails: Chaos Calamity

by Pantalion



Series: Eternal Tails [6]
Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (IDW Comics), Sonic the Hedgehog (Video Games), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types, Terraria
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Flora & Fauna, Amnesia, Angst, Blood and Injury, Body Horror, Character Death, Corruption, Depression, Dimension Travel, Dysfunctional Relationships, Dysphoria, Eldritch, Gen, Giant Spiders, Horror, Isolation, Lovecraftian, Lovecraftian Monster(s), Miles "Tails" Prower Needs a Hug, Mind Manipulation, Mutation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possession, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Species Dysphoria, Suffering, Swarm, Tails Abuse, Video Game Mechanics, cosmic horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 53
Words: 95,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25670719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pantalion/pseuds/Pantalion
Summary: While exploring a strange phenomenon, Miles "Tails" Prower finds himself dragged into a fresh nightmare. With a strange new world already lost once, and threatening to drag his own along with it, Miles discovers that this world might not be so "new" to him after all, and this whole situation might be all his fault.
Series: Eternal Tails [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820140
Comments: 76
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, and thanks for checking out Chaos Calamity.
> 
> As Eternal Tails regulars already are probably sick of me saying, you should never need to read earlier Eternal Tails stories to understand what's going on, but you might enjoy the stories more if you read them in order.
> 
> If you're just here for the Terraria, that's fine too, just bear with us while we check in with our hero and we'll get right onto punching elder horrors in the face shortly. By all means leave a comment if you'd like to stick your oar in about things you'd like to see our hyper intelligent protagonist make, fight, or use as the story goes on.
> 
> ~ Pan.

Miles "Tails" Prower, the Eternal Sidekick, twin-tailed genius, and occasional saver of worlds, was busy.

Miles was _always_ busy. Even when Robotnik, the world's resident evil genius, _wasn't_ trying to destroy himself and others with some mad scheme, the fox spent his days designing, inventing, building, and refining, not to mention helping his friends with their own, mutually opposed, goals.

Being busy was the best way to keep his wayward brain under control, after all.

That had been getting harder and harder to do lately. Miles chalked it up to getting old.

After all, he was _nine_ now.

Miles snorted, smiling at both the memory and the many bittersweet ones that preceded it. The memories he couldn't share with anyone. The endless years spent dooming, then _un_ dooming the world.

The reason he was so busy now.

Miles grunted, dragging a sheaf of star charts towards him, gnawing on the tail end of a pencil as he worked, his twin tails coiling about the legs of his chair.

All for a spaceship full of Cream.

Cream the Rabbit, that was. An actual dairy filled spaceship _could_ be a problem, but it would need to be several miles in diameter and-

Miles shook his head, refocusing on the task at hand.

Twelve rabbit clones. Or... thirteen? It was an eternity ago. Several. And didn't really matter which. Even _one_ extra Cream would be a headache. Especially if it was _his_ Cream. She probably still hated him. He killed her mother, after all. Kind of.

Well, he hated himself for that too.

"Knock knock!"

Miles jerked upright, almost choking on his pencil as he hastily tried to cover the sheet over with a scrap of paper half its size. His chair tilted back dangerously as his tangled tails struggled to disengage themselves.

A hand lightly pressed against the back of his neck, tilting him back forward as another hand popped the pencil out of his mouth.

"You are _so_ jumpy lately." Green eyes gazed at him half-lidded, framed by pink quills and a bright, if somewhat cheeky, smile.

"Oh, hey, Amy." Miles rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish grin.

The pink hedgehog reached past him without hesitation, snatching the starchart from the desk and peering at it with a frown, Miles pencil tapping against her lips.

"Miles Prower, I am _ashamed_ of you." She dropped the papers back on the desk with a theatrical sigh, placing a hand on her forehead. "Tails, usually when a boy hides something, it's supposed to be something _juicy_."

"Hey, stars are _cool_." Miles frowned.

"Ugh. Not what I mean. You're _so_ lame." Amy sat on his desk in front of him, long sleeved winter coat - new, if Miles wasn't mistaken - still dusted with snow as she leaned against a machine that represented a month's worth of solid effort, threatening to drip on it.

"So… uh, were you looking for Sonic today?" Miles smiled. "He's over near Station Square, checking out some energy readings for me."

He said he'd help her with Sonic, after all. It wasn't like he was sacrificing his friend to preserve his lab or anything.

"Hm?" Amy kicked her leggings-clad legs together, spattering meltwater across his floor. "Oh, I already knew that. I'm going there next. Actually…"

The pink hedgehog leaned forward suddenly, closer and closer until her ice cold nose poked his own, making him flinch.

"Hah. Gotcha." She smirked, too close. "But you remember your _promise_ , right?"

Miles nodded, rubbing the chill off his nose. The hedgehog was even more unpredictable than usual lately. "Sure do. Next Thursday. I remember. All planned."

A whole new facet of Amy weirdness to deal with, she'd demanded he 'take her someplace nice.'

Probably so she could talk about Sonic the whole time.

"Great!" Amy's smile broadened and she hopped off the table once more. "Well, I'm going to Station Square. Wish me luck!"

"Good luck." Miles waved absently, steadying the machine on his desk as it wobbled dangerously. "Oh, Amy?"

"Hm?" Amy stopped halfway out of the door, big green eyes staring at him.

"That new coat looks... really good on you."

"Thanks!" Treating him to a glorious grin, the pink whirlwind disappeared from his lab once more.

Miles sighed in relief. At least she was happy. He _still_ wasn't sure how to handle her. And now he had to think up someplace nice, and preferably quiet, on top of everything else.

Reaching for his computer pad, Miles tapped a few buttons before typing with one hand, performing disaster relief on his desk with the other.

_:: Amy headed your way._

_:: Mention the coat!_

Barely a moment passed before it pinged back in rapid succession.

_:: ty for heads up_

_:: will try 2 gtho b4 she gets here_

_:: nothingburger so far_

Miles sighed. Grammar was just another "detail" as far as Sonic was concerned, and the hedgehog had little time for those.

Still, _nothing_ from the readings was interesting. This wasn't one of the "readings" where he needed his treasured friend to get off his couch and give him a few hours of peace and quiet to get things done. Sonic wasn't even the only one he'd asked to check them out.

No, these seemed to be concentrations of pure chaos, like Chaos Emeralds were in heavy use, except Miles had at least one of those in his lab right now powering an experimental coffeemaker, and there were more than a dozen readings across the zones. Hopefully the Chaotix, and Knuckles, would have more lu-

Ugh. Great.

Miles held up what used to be an important blueprint, an imprint of Amy's butt soaked through it. Even in a _good_ mood she was a destructive force of nature.

Well, good thing she was already wearing black. Miles sighed, one eye shimmering crystalline pink as he focused on the paper, focusing the power of the time stone within him.

A shower of rings tumbled from his body and disappeared as his body ignited from the inside, then restored itself just as quickly. Miles coughed ashes into his elbow with a shudder, the remains of his old lungs dusting his fur.

He brushed his arm with a tail, pressing a button on his pad as he heaved in a fresh breath of air.

"Note to self. Collect new rings."

Especially before doing that again. He tapped the button again.

"Oh, and plan Amy outing. Next Thursday evening. Somewhere nice."

The paper in his hand was pristine once more, it had now never been sat upon in the first place. A minor paradox, slipped in where the universe wasn't looking.

'Chrono Control' he'd named it, when he was showing off to the girl who had called him her hero. The girl who no longer even remembered they'd met. It was a pale imitation of the power he'd once held, and a pale echo of its cost. The last tangible evidence that the events of Happy Days had ever occurred.

Except for the rabbits.

Miles shook his head, going back to his calculations. The shuttle he'd put the rabbits onto had taken a scenic route - so much as one existed, in space - taking a whole month to get back to Earth from Little Planet, a month that was now coming to an end within the next few days.

This grace period _wasn't_ his doing. He'd had no information and the best of intentions when he sent the rabbits back to an Earth that had long since been wiped out by the Happy Days project. And when he'd finally left he'd left before the rabbits were even born, to an Earth that had never died. Because time travel was the _worst_.

Miles sighed again. It was probably Reason, his almost clone, among so many other possible labels. Saving him once again from beyond the grave he'd put her in, helping him to avoid awkward questions that Miles wouldn't have been able to answer without explaining everything he'd done to his friends, shortly before they _stopped_ being his friends.

But he had this under control. He just had to calculate where and when the shuttle was due to land, make sure there were no witnesses, and convince them, especially the one that hated him, _especially_ the three that loved him, to live a lie for the rest of their lives to protect _his_ lies from being discovered.

Simple.

At least these readings came at a good time. Assuming Robotnik was behind them, and he was usually behind _everything_ , then everyone would be too busy dealing with that to care about a few random bunnies.

The machine on his desk beeped, indicating another chaos spike. Miles leaned over, twisting a paperclip around to spark a small monitor to life. He couldn't quite remember _why_ the paperclip. He'd either run out of wire or been proving a point to Knuckles at the time. Possibly both. He should have learned his lesson from the TV. Sonic was always breaking it and needing him to fix the thing.

Wait.

Miles squinted closer at the data, the particularity of paperclips forgotten.

Windy Hill? That zone was right near this lab.

Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Miles reached over to his pad once more.

_:: Got similar readings in the neighbouring zone. Going to check them out._

_:: Coordinates on my desk if I'm not here when you get back._

After waiting a few moments without reply, Miles typed again.

_:: Amy_ _**might** _ _like that new crêpes shop on Baker's Street._

The reply came instantly this time.

_:: traitor_

Miles smiled faintly. Yep. She'd already caught him.

"Good luck, Amy."

Whatever good that would do.

Miles stood with a sigh, stretching legs and tails before walking to the door, the winter chill leaking through where Amy hadn't shut it properly. He could work on his rabbit problem more when he got back.

Miles slipped out of his lab and raced off into the snow.


	2. Chapter 2

Winter had come early and hard this year.

Miles glanced over the side of the Tornado, ice threatening to crust over his goggles. Far below, snow blended with clouds to form an endless white expanse, while the Lost Hex spread out ahead of him, its colourful floating archipelagos at once alien and familiar.

Zeti territory.

He had... bad memories about this place.

Maybe he should have waited for Sonic. The hedgehog would have stopped him if he'd told him where he was going.

Well... _fait accompli_. Miles would have had to fly him up here anyway. Miles shook his head, pushing the yoke forward. The green grass of Windy Hill loomed up before him, free of the snow that blanketed the zones below.

Twice as cold though.

It was a much smoother landing than his last visit. He had both wings and a working propeller this time after all, which felt like a rarity sometimes. Wheels crackled to a halt across frozen grass, and Miles slipped out of the cockpit, pulling his goggles up to his forehead. His eyes flicked between his computer pad and his surroundings. He'd only met a handful of Zeti, and every single one of them was strong, fast, and vile, even by his standards. Worse, with their power over electromagnetism they were perfect counters for Miles' technological arsenal. The only thing he had on hand right now that a Zeti couldn't break with a flick of its fingers was a pencil.

At least their population was low, Miles didn't want to think about what might happen if it wasn't. Especially if overcrowding were to ever push them out of the Lost Hex and into the world below. Even _Robotnik_ had trouble with the Zeti, and he was usually the one causing trouble.

Miles tapped his lip, breath misting into the frigid air around him as he swept his pad from side to side. A slow beeping tone picked up speed as he raced toward his target, skimming across the surface of a small lake like a hydrofoil as he approached.

Odd how it wasn't frozen, but given the ground under his feet was busily ignoring gravity the rest of the 'Hex got a pass on his weirdness radar. Still, maybe he'd grab some water samples on his way back. Never too busy to science a thing.

The beeping accelerated as he approached a sheer cliff, its checkerboard earth tones stretching high above. Miles didn't slow, leaping into the air and angling his spinning tails to soar up into the sky.

Too high. Miles panted as he continued to wind his tails, losing altitude for a moment before slamming feet first into the side of the cliff. He skidded down the sheer surface until his tails reset, then pushed off once more. His tails buzzed into life a second time to let him crest the cliff at last, dropping to the grass on top.

The beeping was faster than ever. Miles glanced around with a frown, cupping a hand over his nose with a gloved hand and blowing on it. His fur was thick enough for the cold not to bother him much, but this high up in winter was punishingly cold.

… Nothing. No machinery, no emeralds, and nobody around. Grass, dirt and a few rocks, a nothingburger, as Sonic said. Miles scuffed at the dirt and kicked a pebble over the cliff, watching it fall.

... Felt real enough.

The scanner on his pad was going wild, almost a solid tone of noise. Miles put it away with a frown, slipping it into his hammerspace - folds of spacetime most mobian could make if there was enough chaos energy around.

And there was _plenty_ of energy here. The reading was so high that Miles would have been able to feel it if he was someone more talented. He wasn't even second best when it came to chaos manipulation, after all. More like a distant sixth. Weird how the top three were all hedgehogs.

No rings around though, which in itself was unusual. They usually coalesced in decent numbers around a zone like this. Unless someone had collected them recently, or-

Wait.

Miles squinted at the grass near the middle of the clifftop, walking closer to get a better look.

"Well _you're_ not normal."

A patch of purple grass, distinct among the green. Thorny vines grew from its surface in the same dull purple. No wonder Sonic hadn't seen anything. If the same thing was happening below then it was buried below inches of snow, and Sonic wasn't the type to go digging for clues.

Heh.

Miles reached down, running a gloved finger delicately across a thorn. The jagged tip broke off instantly, burying itself deeper into the fabric even as the branch of the plant crumbled beneath it. "Not normal at all."

Pulling out a sample container Miles squeezed the decaying thorn from his glove into its open lid. It degraded into powder almost instantly, a thin residue across the base of the glass all that remained.

It would be enough. Miles snapped the lid shut. He'd find some rings and use chrono control on it later in his lab. Now to grab some of the grass and he could get-

"I thought I saw someone wandering around my hills."

A female voice broke though Miles' concentration, sounding bored of the conversation already. He jerked in surprise, shrinking in on himself as he turned towards the speaker. Harmless. Small. Non-threatening. Not worth fighting.

He _didn't_ want to fight a Zeti without any rings.

The creature didn't shift from her perch atop a boulder, gazing at him through long lashes and long green hair adorned with a single black horn. Her features, like the Lost Hex itself, were not quite of this world. Her legs and hands were glossy black, with rings of the same dark shade adorning her slender waist and wrists. The pattern was more reminiscent of clothing than skin, and the vibrant green of the rest of her body was far from natural itself.

"Hello, Zeena."

"Fox boy!" The Zeti's yellow and blue eyes lit up, her smooth features tinted by casual malevolence. "It's been a long time. Last time we met you were… strapped to a table, was it?"

"Sounds about right." Miles nodded. The last time they met, Miles had been trying to gun her down with an arm cannon. Reminding her probably wasn't the best idea.

"Mmm. Good times." Zeena ran purple nails, the same shade as the rings on her solitary horn, across her cheek, biting her lip. "Shame though. You looked better as a robot."

Miles' tails lashed through the air. He remembered all too well, the _optical_ implant especially. But... if he stayed calm and played his cards right he might be able to avoid a confrontation.

"So, uh, yeah, since you guys have been coming down to the surface a lot lately, thought I'd return the favour and say hi." Miles trailed his foot along the purple grass, watching the blades crumble beneath his feet. New growth sprouted from the soil moments after it was gone. A state of constant growth and decay. Interesting.

"What are you talking about? Is Zavok playing around down there again?" Zeena tutted with a scowl. "Too much work if you ask me. That's why we don't follow him anymore."

Ah ha. So the Zeti, except, maybe, Zavok, weren't involved. That was a relief, if not too surprising. The Zeti were selfish and cruel, but not particularly motivated as a species, Zavok excepted. Miles nodded, slipping the vial back into his hammerspace. Getting away was more important than grabbing the sample right now.

"Well, it's been nice talking to you, Zeena, but I'd really best be-gk!"

A green beam of energy snapped around his throat the moment he turned away. Zeena yanked Miles backwards to the dirt at her feet with a thud. Her alien eyes gazed into his own as she peered down at him, her slender green tail coiling around his waist.

Just tight enough to hurt.

"Leaving so soon?" The Zeti lifted him off the ground, a smile on her orange lips. "I'm _hurt_ , little fox. You don't want to revisit some of the fun times we've had?"

"I remember plenty well already, Zeena." Miles smiled at her despite the crackling collar at his throat. "Especially the conch."

"What?" Her grip loosened, fear crossing her face.

With good reason. The sound of a 'cacophonous conch', as Robotnik had named it, had a disruptive effect on Zeti neurology. After hearing it, their bodies, and powers, partially shut down, leaving them in agonising, helpless pain.

"Did you think I'd come here without one?" Miles grinned. "I'm not Eggman. I'm happy to use whatever works, again and again. I even set the noise as my ringtone. Wanna listen?"

He slipped his pad out of hammerspace, keeping it away from Zeena's hands as she tried to grab it. "Ah, here we are."

"No!" Zeena tossed him through the air, bouncing across the grass. The green energy tendril faded as she stretched a hand out towards him, yellow sclera of her eyes brightening.

" _Never gonna give you u~"_ The pad sparked and popped as it overloaded.

"What the- you tricked me!"

"Did I?" Miles winked at her, letting the smoking pad fall to the floor. Purple grass crumbled at his feet as he slipped out of the way of her energy whip, crossing onto green grass once again.

"You little _brat_! You're gonna pay for that!"

"Ooo, almost got me that time." Miles wagged his finger and slipped out of the way again, pretending to be someone braver than himself.

He _did_ have the frequency, obviously. In exactly the same way that he _did_ have a rapid fire handheld microfission grenade launcher, a long range disintegrator beam, and a powered heavy assault mecha. Back in his lab, in schematic form, unbuilt and likely to remain that way.

He was already _far_ too dangerous to have a means of enslaving an army of Zeti on literal speed dial.

He was arguably too dangerous to have the pencil.

Miles ducked as a metal sphere crashed into the dirt behind him, then back flipped over it as the Zeti yanked it back towards her with a growl of rage.

"Stay still!"

Zeena spread her arms wide, grabbing a second metal ball from hammerspace and swinging them both together in a wide arc to crush Miles between them.

An opening.

Miles slipped forward and under as they clanged together, dashing forward to swing his tails up into the taller Zeti's stomach. She bounced back across the grass, crashing into a patch of purple thorns with an angry cry.

"Ow! Ow! Owwwww! They're in my hair!"

"Ooo, watch out, those prickers leave _terrible_ stains. It can take days to scrub off."

"What?!" Her eyes widened in deeper terror than even the threat of the conch had evoked. "How _dare_ you!"

Zeena flew upwards, blood trickling down her green skin from where the thorns had cut into her. Space distorted behind her as energy blazed from her hands once more. Dozens of large, exceedingly pointy, spheres thudded out of hammerspace around her

Meh. Worth a shot. It had been a fifty-fifty chance that the vain creature would run off to fix her hair. Miles yelped, hurling himself from side to side as she hurled balls at him one after another in rapid succession.

"Stop running and let me hit you!" The distortion grew heavier around Zeena, shadows deepening and widening as more and more spiky balls fell from nothingness. One projectile scraped past Miles' ear, tearing straight through in a spray of blood.

How was she _doing_ that? Miles skidded under a salvo of spiked balls then launched over another, tails spinning to hold him clear until an opening in the pattern cleared up. He pulled out his energy cannon but it crackled into uselessness in an instant.

Ugh. Miles dropped it to the dirt and kept moving. Zeena was attacking far too quickly to even think about doing much more than dodge right now. He needed to wait for her to get tired, show some kind of _weakness_.

And then the space behind Zeena _blinked_. An enormous iris taller than even a human loomed up behind the Zeti, big enough to swallow her up in its pupil. The eye writhed from side to side as though trying to squeeze through the gap in space.

"What th- oof!" A ball slammed into Miles' stomach, the fox bounced backwards across the grass.

"Hah! Got you." Zeena smiled, raising two more spiked balls above her head. "And now you p-ugh! Get _off_ me!"

Crimson red tentacles had squeezed through the rift past the giant eye, coiling around Zeena in a heartbeat and dragging her to the floor. Her energy tethers crackled out of existence, dropped balls stabbing into the ground once more as she struggled in vain to tear the tentacles off her legs.

Miles weaved to his feet, white fur of his chest stained pink as he wheezed in a lungful of frigid air. More tentacles crept out past the giant eyeball to grab the yelling Zeti. Her foot claws carved a furrow in the earth as the tentacles dragged her backwards despite her overwhelming strength. The eye now bulged out of the rift in space, almost halfway through the widening tear, more tentacles slipping through around it.

… Well, he'd seen enough of the comics Knuckles hid under his bed to see where _this_ was going. Miles glanced around the cliff face, clutching his wounded abdomen. He needed to get his pad back and get the data back to Sonic. Clearly something _major_ was going on, and they were going to need all the muscle they could get to deal with it.

"Eww! _Gross_!" Zeena finally fell back to the floor, now helplessly tangled in crimson strands as one wrapped across her face.

Miles sighed, dropping to a crouch.

As soon as he saved the Zeti.

Because that was what Sonic would do.

Bursting into a sprint, Miles pounded across the grass, stepping around thorns and grasping tentacles alike. He reached the immobilised Zeena in moments, leaping straight over the top without pause and grabbed his pencil from the air around him moments before colliding, point first, with the giant eyeball.

The entire world rumbled in pain around him.

Miles stumbled backwards, scrambling heedlessly through thorns to get away. The eye, pencil still jutting from its surface, withdrew, its tentacles slithering after it.

He didn't even have time to register his victory. Air rushed into the empty space, threatening to drag him in with it. Fingers thrust into the dirt, Miles clawed his way hand over bloodstained hand away from the event horizon. Zeena skidded past him with a surprised yell, free from the tentacles but claimed by the vortex all the same, eyes wide with fear.

And she grabbed his tails as she passed.

"Oh n-ahhhhh!"

With a sudden, painful lurch, Miles hurtled screaming back into the void.


	3. Chapter 3

Miles opened his eyes to a blanket of stars and a dull ache in his back.

Had he…?

He remembered falling, yelling at Zeena to let go of his tails so he could fly and save them both.

He remembered the eye, disembodied and mobile, following them down, smaller eyes popping from its off-white surface like bursting pustules, a swarm writhing through the air after them…

He _didn't_ remember landing. Had it been seconds? Hours?

Days?

The wind blew over him, far warmer than the frigid gusts of Windy Hill, but carrying a foul stench of rotting vegetation and spoiled meat. Leaves rustled below him, the pain in his back worsening with the movement. No sign of the eye _or_ Zeena. For now.

… Had he landed on a bush?

Miles groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. Sure enough, he felt leaves brushing against his glove.

At least it wasn't water. Would have been better if he'd hit the dirt though. Long falls didn't do much to a mobian - too light and too solid. Why had he even lost-

Wait, now he remembered. He'd pulled Zeena up into his arms, must have landed with her on top of him just before he'd got his tails going.

Probably for the best he hadn't landed on dirt then. Getting crushed did a _lot_ to a mobian, and the Zeti was significantly heavier and larger than him, even if she was less dense. Not that he was ever going to make any comments to Zeena about her weight. She'd raged hard enough to tear a hole in the universe over her hair.

Miles groaned again. It sort of helped. Not his first dimension sucking vortex to oblivion, but his back _really_ was starting to hurt now. Stomach too, actually.

Miles discovered why when he tried to move and the bush tried to move with him. He craned his head forward to see a narrow branch jutting through his abdomen. He slumped back, staring up at a crescent moon the colour of candyfloss.

Should have left the Zeti.

Still, he'd had worse.

And _done_ worse.

And maybe that eye was coming back.

Miles reached down, snapping the branch with his fingers just below where it entered his back, then creaked his head up, grabbing onto his tails for purchase to roll himself forward with a grimace. Blood trickled out of the side of the wound, but for the most part what remained of the branch was sealing the hole. He could move, at least a little.

Leaves stretched out beneath him in every direction. Hard to tell in the dark, but they looked green, rather than the purple he'd been expecting. Islands of foliage and candyfloss moons. Made at least as much sense as his last interdimensional jaunt, all things considered. Still, he could think about what happened when he was somewhere a bit less precarious.

Miles heaved to his feet, probing at the other injuries he'd incurred fighting Zeena as he limped gingerly towards the edge of the leaf platform. Darkness stretched below far below him, the shapes of trees hinted at by the dull pink of the moon.

So he was on a giant tree? Well, at least _that_ was normal enough. Judging from the foliage it was actually a bit smaller than some of the trees back on Angel Island. Probably not hollow though. From the lack of light pollution there didn't look to be much in the way of civilisation.

Well, unless creepy eyeball monsters _were_ the civilisation. Miles shivered. Hopefully Zeena was alright. If only because she _might_ be able to open a way back home. Then again he'd never seen a Zeti pull off a large scale rupture in spacetime before, and Sonic was _way_ better at annoying them than he was, so it probably had something to do with the chaos spikes.

A distant roar sounded across the night, feeling like it came from all directions at once. Miles flinched. Unknown dangers below and above. Was it better to be stuck up a tree or trapped down on the ground?

In the end, since there was also the _known_ danger that he had six inches of wood stuck through his intestinal tract, and no sign of any rings up here to get to work solving that problem, Miles decided to try "down". He swung over the side of the treetop, grabbing at a dangling vine to slide down into the blackness below. It was far too short, but also solved that problem by snapping under his weight. Miles barely managed to spin his tails to slow his descent before landing with a pained grunt to the earth below.

"Well, that could have gone better." Miles dropped to a knee, panting heavily.

Had worse. Done worse.

He'd been doing this as long as he could remember, after all. Before he met Sonic there had been the kukku, tearing apart enemy soldiers with hammer and fist when bombs and guns ran out, taking their technology and improving on it, an endless arms race until there weren't any kukku left to fight him. The death traps and machine armies of Robotnik had been a relief after that. Until Sonic stopped wanting his help.

That had hurt worst of all.

Miles pushed himself back up, legs wobbling slightly. Pain pushed deep once more as he took stock of his surroundings.

Darkness. The silhouettes of trees - regular trees - against the night sky. Miles swept his gaze across black hills, ears pricked to hear any sound above the foul smelling wind.

Metallic clanking? Robot?

Miles turned towards the sound, back towards the giant tree just as the wind blew, a flicker of golden yellow momentarily coming into view from the other side of an enormous root before slipping out of sight once more. Miles crept forward, trying to keep his ragged breathing quiet as he slipped through the tangled wood…

Flowers.

Taller than him, with petals of glowing yellow that positively shone in the dark, illuminating a small patch of ground beneath them.

Miles stepped forwards, reaching out on tiptoe to brush a fingertip across a petal. They looked like the flowers on Little Planet, if not for the glow. Just looking at them brought back a flood of happy memories of the time he'd spent there.

Which… was actually very worrying, since he didn't _have_ happy memories of the time he'd spent there. Were the flowers exerting some kind of mind control? A self-defence mechanism against predation? Or... some kind of _lure_? Miles tore his eyes from the flowers with a frown, stumbling back as happiness dulled into safe, familiar numbness. He was going to have to be careful in this place if even the flowers were memetic hazards.

The clatter of metal, momentarily forgotten, drew closer, a human sized silhouette lumbered into the light of the flowers, purple metal casing barely reflecting their glow.

"I come in peace." Miles spread his hands wide, showing the figure he was unarmed. "I _hope_ you're friendly."

The robot didn't so much as slow down, swinging a metal fist towards Miles, or towards where Miles had been.

"Yeah, figured as much." Miles looped a tail around the automaton's leg, spinning around to send it crashing into the trunk of the tree. "Nothing-" He straightened with a wince, clutching his side. "Nothing's _ever_ friendly."

The robot heaved itself back to its feet without a word, lunging at him once more. Miles pounced, slipping behind its attack to grab the thing's head between his hands and heaving backwards. The metal separated easily, leaving Miles to drop to the floor before it, holding its metal head.

"Too ea- yah!" A metal foot punted him across the grass, sliding into a tree with a thud. The head fell from his hands with a hollow clatter.

"Guess you don't need your head then." Miles shuddered. Felt like the stick just splintered inside him. "Well let's see what else you can do without." He forced himself back to his feet once more, raising his fists as the vastly larger robot bore down on him.

"Watch out!"

Tiny silhouettes, barely visible in the darkness, hurtled across the darkness, slapping into the robot _en masse_. Its advance slowed as it tried to tear the projectiles from its body.

"This way! While it's distracted!" An arm waved from the shadows at the base of the great tree, a flash of green just visible in the flowerlight.

Miles slipped past the robot, easily slipping below its clumsy attempt to stop him despite his reduced speed. A hand - or maybe a tentacle - slipped out of the darkness to guide him in, and there was a clatter as a door slammed shut behind him, extinguishing what little light there was.

Huh. Turned out the tree was hollow after all.

Something gripped Miles' wrist, leading him through the darkness as a sweet voice - definitely not Zeena - spoke to him from beside his ear. A sweet scent of perfume tickled his nose, infinitely preferable to the foul stench outside or the smell of his own blood.

"Don't worry. It can't get through the door tonight. You're safe."

"Thanks for the help."

Would Sonic have said "but I could have handled it"? Maybe? That sounded like a hero thing to say. Bit late now though. Miles settled for smiling into the dark. Given his luck his saviour was a renegade creepy eyeball person and could totally see him right now.

"I don't know why you came here, traveller. You know there's no hope for us."

"Where's here? What's going on?"

The voice gasped,

"Wait, you're not human, are you? It's started again. Watch the stairs."

The warning came a moment too late. Miles jarred against the step, sending fresh agony throughout his abdomen.

"...What's started again?" Miles managed to grate out, blinking tears from his eyes.

The voice sighed once more.

"I can't explain very well, traveller. The one who would have been able to help you is dead. They burned him... And then they died too."

The stairs ended without warning, another painful jolt for Miles. The speaker continued.

"Soon this world will be gone, and the cycle will begin again. The wall between your world and this one must already be wafer thin if you have arrived here."

Miles didn't respond. Just walking was hard enough right now, and eyeball-monster girl was doing a fine job with the exposition already.

The mystery appendage left Miles' arm, leaving him to falter to a halt as a latch was lifted ahead of him. Light flooded into his eyes once more, though only a single flickering candle atop a wooden bench.

His saviour stepped into the room first. He'd already guessed some of her anatomy, a few inches taller than he was, female, and, surprisingly, not an eyeball monster. Long green hair - leaves? And two red flowers bloomed on each side of her head, framing a delicate, furless face with two large, expressive blue eyes and slightly yellow tinged skin.

A Maginaryworlder? She sort of looked like Lumina, an otherworldly beauty that, like the Zeti, fell somewhere between human and mobian.

Well, admittedly all the Magins that Miles had seen wore clothes. The girl's lithe frame was sparsely wrapped in simple vines and leaves, save for a crimson gem mounted on the centre of her chest that bore a strong resemblance to the one Lumina's counterpart Void had borne in the same place.

Miles frowned. If this was the world of dreams, something had gone very wrong indeed.

"Are you coming in, traveller? You need not fear me." The plant-magin smiled faintly, her green tinted hands spread wide in an echo of the pose he'd made to the robot just before. "My name is Cosmo the Dryad."

"Sorry, I space out a lot." Miles rubbed the back of his head with a grin as he stepped into the light. "My name is-"

The Dryad's cheerless smile turned to outright disgust as she looked down at the twin tails swirling behind him.

"You?!"


	4. Chapter 4

"Me?" Miles tilted an ear in confusion. "Have we met?"

He wanted to say… no? He tried to keep track of the people who hated him, and "pretty flower girl thing" sounded pretty memorable.

Cosmo turned away from him, slender hands clenched.

"I want you _out_ , Miles Prower." Her voice, formerly sweet, if sad, was now positively frigid with anger and loathing.

"I… uh... I'm sorry for whatever I did?" Miles rubbed the back of his head. Had he shot her mother or something? Seemed like something he'd do.

"Whatever you did?!" The dryad rounded on him, green tipped finger prodding his furry chest. "You have ruined _everything._ So many times!"

"Ah." Miles sighed, his downturned blue eyes reflected in hers. _This_ was more familiar. "Sorry in advance. I probably won't be able to _not_ do it, though. I'm mostly deterministic when it comes to time travel."

"Time travel?" Cosmo blinked through tears of anger. "Time travel?!"

A storm of leaves raged up behind her. Miles tensed, ready to strike, but the leaves vanished back into her as quickly as they came.

"What would be the point?" She turned away from him, blinking rapidly. "You may stay in the stairway tonight if you must. It is safe. Enough."

Miles nodded, stepping back across the threshold into the dark once more. The door snapped shut behind him, sealing him in the dark. Somewhere above came the slow, rhythmic pounding of metal on wood as the automaton tried to batter the door down.

Miles slumped down, shivering from system shock as he dangled his legs over an unseen ledge that stretched down into the unknown depths of the tree's root system.

"Well, guess I really did it this time." Miles muttered to himself, staring into nothing. "... Do it this time?"

Stupid time travel.

From what the dryad had said, this world was about to end, _his_ world was next, and there was a good chance he was going to be the one responsible for it. He had no leads, and the only two hints of civilisation were a plant girl that hated him and a headless robot that hated him almost as much. Zeena was nowhere to be found, and he had the worst splinter _ever_ somewhere around his left kidney, and possibly right kidney too since the robot had kicked him.

If only he'd held onto the thing's head. It wasn't like he _couldn't_ go back up, but the stairs had a slight turn partway down and he wasn't sure where, exactly. Without Cosmo guiding him he'd probably drop into the depths, compounding his current problems. Hopefully it would leave its head behind and wander off at some point. He could build some kind of communicator, contact Sonic and warn everyone. Maybe getting a hero in here would stop him from ruining things in the first place.

Unless it was deterministic. Unless he killed everyone.

Again.

If only Reason was here. And alive. As the mental copy of Robotnik's clone, Doodle, imprinted onto his own biological makeup - or, more precisely, his twinned X-chromosome - she'd had at least _decades_ of experience in chronophysics he could be tapping into, with all the genius to extrapolate from that knowledge while they tried to work out an answer.

Also... sort of could have used a hug right now.

Miles sighed in the dark. While he didn't quite understand the tangled relationship they shared, for someone like him, the one and _only_ mobian fox, the presence of someone so much like himself into his life had been… comforting. While it lasted.

Not that he'd turn down a hug from a few other people at this point. Heck, he might settle for a Zeti, and not necessarily Zeena. Even ancient and terrible horrors like himself needed a hug now and then after all. Particularly when they'd doomed the world _again_ without knowing how.

Miles settled for a tail, squeezing his fur tight in his arms as he tried to get his shaking body under control.

The door opened once more, the dim light of the candle within doing nothing to illuminate the gloom below. Bare feet tapped lightly behind him. Mile clenched himself into stillness.

"Stand up." Cosmo snapped.

Miles obeyed, releasing his tail as he weaved upright once more. Compliance was usually easier. Better to follow someone else than make his own decisions with all the grim consequences they entailed.

The plant girl glared at him, a glass container between her sharp pointed fingers.

"Hold still." She raised her hand.

Miles let out an involuntary scream as wood ripped itself free of his body, over a dozen bloody splinters dripping on the floor before Cosmo cast them over the edge with a flick of the wrist. She snared Miles' wrist as he lost balance, pulling him towards her before he could tumble down after them.

"Drink this." Cosmo plucked a glass bottle from the bundle, scowling as she popped off the stopper and pressed it to his lips. "It will make you sick."

Miles could barely make out a crimson liquid as it sloshed into his unresisting mouth. It tasted like blood. Fresh vigour flowed down through his arms and legs, the agony in his stomach diminishing as the flesh - at very least externally - knitted back together, leaving a small circular patch of furless pink skin where the wound had been. A quick touch confirmed even his torn ear was now intact once more.

"What-" Miles stopped talking as a wave of overpowering nausea replaced the pain that had been taken from him and he clutched a bloodstained hand over his mouth.

"Do _not_ come looking for more. That's the only one they left here." Cosmo dropped the bottle unceremoniously on the floor and turned on her heel.

"Thank you- _urp -_ very much, miss Cosmo." Miles almost lowered his hand to flash her a smile before thinking better of it.

The dryad paused a moment, partially turning towards him before sweeping back into the room, door slamming behind her once more without a word.

Well... That was… nice? Miles retched again, breathing quickly through his nose as he settled down on the wooden floor, coiling his tails around himself as he listened to the rhythmic banging on the door above and waited for morning to come.

* * *

It had been a long time.

Sonic glanced out of the open cockpit, unbothered by the wind rushing into his face. He usually ran much faster than this, after all.

And usually _wasn't_ the one flying. Tails had a _gift_ in the air. Ever since he was four years old, he'd handled the flying for the both of them through the most hostile of conditions, and, usually, making it through in one piece. Or... at least making sure _they_ made it through in one piece, which was an achievement as impressive as it was easy to take for granted, given the amount of fire they'd taken from Eggman's forces over the years.

It felt like he'd been taking a lot of things for granted lately.

Sonic grimaced, spying the Lost Hex far in the distance.

"You okay up there?" He called up to the passenger sprawled across the wing over his head.

There was no reply. He just scratched the white fur on his chest with a grunt, staring out at the floating continent ahead.

"Thanks again for coming out with me, by the way. You're the only person I know who's good enough to fly the Tornado apart from him. And if something's happened…" Sonic trailed off with a frown.

"Tails helped me before." The terse response, as though that said everything that needed to be said.

If he hadn't been preoccupied with Amy's harassment, maybe he'd have paid more attention to Tails' message. Maybe he'd have remembered which lab they were staying at this week and thought about what zones it was nearest.

Of  _ course _ Tails had flown out here himself. The gentle-natured fox might be timid, but he had always been so keen to help, always thoughtlessly putting himself into danger. It wasn’t until they came face to face with their own past selves during their encounter with the Time Eater that Sonic had ever even questioned it . What kind of hero had he been all those years to put his best friend into harm’s way for so long? Tails had only just turned  _ nine _ after all, still two years younger than when Sonic himself had started doing hero work.  So Sonic had insisted that he stay on the back lines, away from the fighting as much as possible. Even though he _should_ be in school, teaching classes or something. 

But now for the third time in recent memory the little fox had got into trouble because _he'd_ dropped the ball. The last time had been just last month, getting abducted by Eggman's robots up to the Death Egg along with Cream. _That_ had almost been game over thanks to the killer robot Eggman had made. Sonic was supposed to be the one protecting _him_ , but, just like the last time they were here on Lost Hex, Tails had dug deep and saved the day with that big ol' brain of his.

Hopefully the same had happened this time.

No. Hopefully _nothing_ had happened. Tails was fine, just... out of comms range, geeking out over some science thing. Or sat in the cockpit of the plane he could now see parked down below. Nowhere near any Zeti. Just because there had been no contact...

"Okay, I'm going to take us in." He yelled up. "Brace yourself!"

"Alright."

 _Ugh._ Sonic had needed to run to Mystic Ruins to grab another plane anyway, but _man_ did he have trouble dealing with this guy. He shook his head in exasperation, swooping in to land beside the first plane, zipping out of one and into the other in moments in his search.

No sign of Tails. Sonic pulled a small handheld scanner from his hammerspace, holding it aloft and pushing the big red button at its centre. Rapid beeping sounded from its speaker. He swivelled it until he found the beepiest direction then slipped it away again.

"Okay! I'm going to run on ahead, see if he's further down the island. You going to be okay here, Big guy?"

Slipping off the wings with a thud, the enormous purple cat raised a thumb.

"I'll be okay." Big nodded slowly, producing a fishing rod and starting to amble towards the nearest body of water.

"Alright, cool, if you see anything with horns, just get in Tails' plane and leave before they get too close. I'll be back soon."

Before the cat had a chance to respond, Sonic was already running. For once he paid careful attention to his surroundings as he ran.

Yeah, _really_ hard to talk to that guy. Hard to believe that he was the only person to ever successfully pilot one of Tails' custom planes except for the little fox himself. How did he even _fit_? He was well over twice Tails' height. Easily six times his girth.

A cliff loomed ahead. Sonic didn't slow, leaping just before impact then thrusting in midair into a spring at its base. He soared upwards, feet pattering along the side of the cliff until he soared over the top, landing neatly at the-

"Yeowch!"

Right into a thorn bush. Tiny needles dug into his furless arms, even the fur on his legs offered little defence. Sonic spun in place a moment, centrifugal force sending the prickers flying off him in ashes before peering around with a frown.

"Huh. Since when did this place have purple grass? Really gloomies up the place."

Only a small patch of green could be seen on the clifftop, and the thorns were _everywhere_ , choking even that small patch that remained.

Well, this was _one_ competition he was confident in coming out on top. Dropping to a sprinting start, Sonic spun his legs in place, faster and faster before letting himself roll forward. The momentum turned his body into a living buzzsaw, spinning through the hostile foliage at a blur. Thorns deflected off his spines while entire plants crumbled around him.

A hard bump disrupted Sonic's gardening. He bumping up into the air to drop a few feet away. He twisted around to see a spiked metal ball, partially buried in the earth. Its spikes were covered in dried blood.

"Tails…"

A moment later, Sonic spotted the familiar yellow of his buddy's _Miles Electric_ portable computer, discarded beneath another bush. He buzzed through, snatching it from the floor on his way through.

It wouldn't turn on. Smelled kind of burnt, too. Zeti must have got to it. That would explain why Tails hadn't been responding.

But… where _was_ he? Tails was at a _huge_ disadvantage when it came to Zeti.

Another clue. Sonic grabbed Tails' cannon from the dirt, the same smoky aroma as the Miles Electric.

That settled it. Tails had come into contact with the Zeti. But did he get captured? Kil- Sonic shook his head, peering down at the white clouds below. Had Tails jumped over the edge? That would have been exactly the kind of quick strategic thinking that the little guy did so well, and he had none of the worries Sonic would have had about doing so - namely hitting the water.

Sonic turned away, stashing Tails' gear in his hammerspace. He'd head back to Big and tell him to take the _Tornado 2_ down, then-

"Whoa!" He ducked as two long pincers snapped down where his head had been, snapping out and to the side in a blur of blue. "Huh. You are one _ugly_ dude."

The creature's bloated body - slightly longer than he was tall - bumped into the ground where he'd been standing. Its greying flesh quivered from the impact. A dozen wiggling green tentacles - or... something starting with an F? Tails would probably know - flowed through the air as it reoriented its pincers towards him, snapping them together. One giant green eye blinked at Sonic, flanked by four smaller eyes that swivelled freely around, never focusing on one thing very long, never blinking.

Had… this _thing_ hurt Tails? It looked vaguely like something from the Black Arm invasion last year, if the wrong colour. But they were supposed to be _extinct_.

There was too much going on here.

The "floating cell monster thing" charged again, its last mistake as it met with an angry blue wrecking ball. The two halves fell to the ground, hissing and fizzling until only a small scrap of foul smelling flesh remained. Sonic clutched his nose as three more drifted towards him from the direction he'd arrived from.

Oh no.

The direction _Big_ was waiting for him.


	5. Chapter 5

Big liked fishing.

He liked Froggy too. But Froggy was sleeping. Froggy slept when it was cold.

So Big fished alone. Which was okay. It would have been better with Froggy.

He'd found some strange fish today. He'd even found a box.

Big didn't know where the box came from. But that was okay. He didn't like the box very much. It wasn't a fish. And there were eyes on the box. Boxes weren't supposed to have eyes.

The box had fishing bait in it though. That was nice. He liked the spinny toy as well.

Big reeled in his fishing pole. Another strange fish. All yellow metal like a ring. Didn't look good to eat. He threw it back. It was bad to catch fish and not eat them.

He took new bait from the box.

Big liked Tails too.

He hoped Tails was okay. Tails helped him with Froggy sometimes. And he told Big things. He was hard to understand. But Big knew he was very smart, and very sad. But he always smiled anyway. That was hard to understand too. So Big didn't ask why.

Big scratched his chest. It was very cold. Too cold for Froggy. But not too cold for Big.

Good thing Froggy was sleeping.

Big looked up. A big floaty thing was coming. It looked a bit like fish. Too many eyes though. Like his box. He didn't like the fish very much. Fish weren't supposed to be in the sky.

Sonic had said to run away if he saw things with horns. Big looked at the fish, scratching his head. It looked a bit like it had horns. But those weren't horns. They were just very big teeth.

That was fine.

More teeth fish flew towards him. Big's lips moved as he counted them.

One. Two… Three… Lots. Lots and lots.

But they didn't have horns, so Big looked back to his fishing.

Until one bit him.

Big did _not_ like being bitten.

* * *

"You know, _I_ would have got us back in a week, _right_?" Cream asked with a huff, the red bandanna around her ears denoting her seed.

"You were flying all yesterday, Knuckles!" Cream, a year younger, replied in a huff, adjusting the crimson hairband that both held her long ears up and marked her own seed. "Sonic's been doing a great job. It's not hi- _her_ fault that the controls are broken."

"Shut up." Cream whispered, unheeded. _Her_ seed was the original. But _she_ was broken.

"Guys! Guys! Calm down!" The Cream in the blue dress called out from the pilot's chair. "We're going to be _fine_ , alright? See? Earth is right down there. We'll be there any day now."

"I hope Tails is still okay back on Happy Days."

"Psh. Like he's even there, he went down to Little Planet right?" Cream snorted, folding her arms. "Since we're still here he must have failed to get the time stones or something."

"Shut up!" Cream yelled this time, startling the whole cabin to silence before hunching back over, tears spilling from her eyes.

A few of the younger Creams joined her, starting to sniffle.

"Sh, sh, shhh, it's alright." Headband Cream scooped up the littlest. Nerf. A seedless.

Lucky her.

Cream sighed, twitching her white _tail_ and brushing her fingers across its stubby length.

It must be nice to be seedless.

To the eight Creams that hadn't been seeded with the minds of the dead, they were surrounded by family, thirteen sisters cramped together in space. A strange life, perhaps, but all they'd ever known.

To the oldest Cream, mourning the death of her Mama, she was surrounded by friends wearing her face, haunted by the centuries she'd spent living with her Mama's killer, tormented by a cage of love and hate.

And to the three heroes, gifted with memories of people stronger, faster, and more _heroic_ , their _bodies_ were cages. Cages that stopped them being what they were. Cages that were robbing them of _who_ they were.

The mind was a reflection of the body. Memories poured to fill a rabbit shape like so many grains of sand. Take fifteen years of memories of a hedgehog boy who raced the world, and out the other end came a delusional rabbit girl, one who remembered a lifetime of things that _stopped_ mattering to her, who remembered being able to run faster than sound against all evidence to the contrary.

A Cream that went through the same experiences as Sonic would still be Cream. A Cream that spent fifteen years _thinking_ they were Sonic would still be Cream. Would still be sweet. Would still be slow. Would still be a girl. And there was a reason these were called _formative_ years. Soon they really would be more like sisters than anything else, their personalities worn smooth by _new_ experiences, by _new_ life. Like… twins? Tri… What was the word for thirteen identical siblings again?

 _They_ were still the lucky ones.

Cream sighed, staring out at a planet she'd never been to, at lights shining in the dark. They'd spent weeks arguing about their origin. Feeling the metal ring at the back of her neck where she'd been _put_ in this head.

Or at least as much of her as would fit.

A metal canister broke into her line of sight and her concentration. The Cream pretending to be Amy smiled down at her.

"Hey, you hungry, Sept?"

Ah, yes, she was Sept now. The seedless used numbers. Back when her head worked, she had found her own name to be delightfully ironic for reasons she couldn't remember and would no longer have understood. Three years old and _average_.

"...Thank you, Amy." Sept took the canister in a white gloved hand anyway, her lunch sloshing within.

NotAmy grinned, rubbing Sept's head. "It's going to be alright. You'll see."

"I know." Sept nodded.

Sept knew lots of things. And she had forgotten most of them.

But she _did_ know that things were going to be _exciting_ very soon.

* * *

"Tails! Hey, Tails! Open up, you hear?!"

Knuckles pounded on the door with a mitten'd fist, the reinforced knuckles that were his namesake leaving sizeable dents in the polished metal.

Whoops.

Well, Tails could fix that. Little guy was always fixing stuff. He should have opened the door though, it was _freezing_ out here.

Knuckles pounded again, scowling.

This was why he kept Angel Island flying near the equator. Balmy weather all year round, far away from any ice zones. Not messing around in freezing snow. His crimson fur wasn't long enough for this. Echidna were supposed to laze in the sun as the gods intended!

But even though his tail was so cold it was almost _straight_ , Knuckles kept banging on the door, distorting the fragile inch and a half thick steel door as he did.

Wait. Was this even the right lab? Why did Tails have to have so many? If he was going to change labs he could at least answer his communicator!

"Knuckles?"

Knuckles paused, fist halfway to the door as he looked up. A pink furred hedgehog looked at him, a brown paper bag clutches in one of her hands and a steaming cup in the other.

"Oh, Amy, hey. Just trying to get _someone_ to open his door already." He folded his arms with a chuckle.

"Huh? But Tails _never_ locks his door." Amy tilted an ear in confusion. "Not even in the middle of the night."

"That's… Uh… How do you-"

" _So_ , did you try calling him?" Amy smiled sweetly.

"Of _course_ I did!" Knuckles scowled. "He's not picking up!"

"Hm… He did leave Sonic a message about going to check some readings awhile ago. Maybe he's not back yet? Did you check his plane?"

"His…" Knuckles rubbed his frigid lips with his mitt. "Oh! I forgot."

Amy stared at him half-lidded.

"Don't look at me like that, I was in a hurry!" Knuckles zipped to the side of the building and back again, snow spraying under his boots. "Yeah, his plane's gone. No tracks, must have been gone awhile."

"Huh. That is strange." Amy tilted her head. "I could have _sworn_ Sonic was nearby."

The sound of jet engines slipped past the edge of hearing. Knuckles shot Amy a glance before squinting up into the air, trying to make out the distant red shape.

Yep. Sonic's plane.

Thank _Yuda_ she wasn't interested in him.

Sonic skidded to the snow, powder spraying through the air as damaged wheels failed to find purchase on the frozen surface all the way to a snow drift piled at the end of the runway.

"Sonic!" Amy hopped up and down, beaming despite the steaming brown liquid sloshing all over her gloves.

"Oh, hey, Ames." Sonic staggered towards them, whacking the side of his head to dislodge snow from his ear. "Long time no see."

"It was this morning, Sonic." Amy glowered at him, bag tearing slightly in her grip. "We met this morning. You took me to breakfast."

"Huh? Oh. Right. Right. Well, we need to get inside- Whoa! What happened to the door?"

"It was like that when I got here." Knuckles shrugged.

"Okay." Sonic glanced at him eyes half-lidded. "Sure."

Knuckles nodded in sly satisfaction. Nobody would ever suspect.

"Amy, could you? We're in a hurry."

"Sure thing, Sonic!" Amy shoved bag and cup into Knuckles hands as she stepped past, bending over the lock for a moment before standing back. The battered lock clicked open. "See? Aren't I useful? How about you marr-"

"Not now, Amy." Sonic pushed past her into the lab, letting the door clang shut behind him.

The hedgehog girl blinked in shock, mouth gaping open before it faded to fury. She slammed the door open, following Sonic with a furious yell that rattled the laboratory's thick windows.

Knuckles gazed at the door for a long moment, slurping his new beverage.

Thanks again, Yuda.

Hm. Mint hot chocolate. Not bad.

He shook his head, stepping into the lab. Amy was already quiet, sat hunched over on Tails' desk looking sick. Sonic was sat in Tails' chair, hand on his forehead. The Miles Electric and a bloodstained energy cannon sat on the table before him.

"What's going on guys? So Tails forget his computer again?" Knuckles slurped another mouthful of hot chocolate, helping him to warm up. "That explains why he wasn't answering my messages I guess?"

"Tails left these on Windy Hill." Sonic didn't move, staring at it.

"On the Lost Hex? But that's Zeti territory!"

"Tails is missing, Knuckles," Amy muttered quietly, staring at her hands.

"Well then we need to get back up there!" Knuckles punched the end of the sofa with a crunch of wood.

Uhh… Tails could fix that too. When he got back. "Why did you leave him up there, Sonic?!"

"It wasn't just the Zeti!" Sonic snapped, slamming his own fist on the desk. Part of the machine next to him broke off in a spray of paperclips. "There were these monsters! Kinda like Black Arms, they were everywhere! They attacked me and Big. We had to get out of there."

"Then where _is_ -"

Amy's question was cut off by an almighty crash from outside. A moment later the vast purple cat stumbled into through the broken door, his fur smoking slightly and caked with swampy green fluids and clumps of purple flesh.

"... Hello." Big waved, a spiked ball and chain of softly glowing blue metal clutched in his other hand.

"Big! What happened?"

"It bit me."

"If Tails was here…" Sonic glowered down at the desk.

"What bit you, Big?" Amy hopped down off the desk, nose crinkling from the smell as she brought a towel over to the giant Mobian.

Knuckles nodded, crushing his now empty cup and throwing it into the trashcan.

"Alright! Listen up!" He clapped his mitts together to catch their attention. "When I was out by Green Hills I came across something too."  
He pulled out a fang as long as his arm. "There were weird giant bugs in the sand, making some kind of _nest_. Both things are probably linked to those readings."

"Sonic." He pointed at the blue hedgehog. "You go and find Eggman and beat some sense out of him. If he's taken Tails you _know_ he'll tell you. Amy and Big, stay here in case Tails comes back. Try and get in touch with G.U.N. If Black Arms are involved somehow, Shadow's our best bet. If not, we could still use their resources. This _isn't_ just a mobian issue now."

"A-alright." Amy nodded, still scraping gunk off of Big.

"What are you going to do?" Sonic frowned.

"I'm going to go ask the Zeti where my _friend_ is." Knuckles pounded his fist into his palm with an impact hard enough to loose a wisp of flame. "We'll keep in touch via the lab computer. Understood?"

Three pairs of eyes stared at Knuckles, blankly.

"Hey! Stop looking so surprised! Let's go! For Tails!"

The three heroes sprung into action.

Big continued to stare blankly.


	6. Chapter 6

Miles opened his eyes to a thin beam of daylight shining down through the open door above.

His pain was completely gone, as was his nausea. A quick probe into the thick fur of his torso revealed not even bruising remained.

Odd.

He twisted and prodded a few moments later, frowning. Not nerve damage. He'd recovered completely, _without_ having to gather rings. Was that the potion? It hadn't been anything like this last night.

Hold on.

Miles squinted in the dark, burrowing his fingers across his waist once again.

Yep. His fur had grown back. Not even rings restored lost tissue… Was it chaos related? If the high chaos readings from his world had been bleeding through, it _could_ be having an impact on surrounding reality. But this was the other way around. His body wasn't being _infused_ with chaos, _entropy_ was being reversed. The world _itself_ was becoming more orderly, even while being flooded with so much chaos energy that dimensional barriers were collapsing.

And if something was taking the chaos out of the world… What was it, where was it, and what was it _doing_ with it?

Miles hopped to his feet with a shrug. Sitting here literally contemplating his navel wasn't going to get him home, or save the world. Or doom any worlds, admittedly. Sort of a counterargument there.

He climbed the stairs anyway. At least he could be out of the dark, and maybe the robot left its head.

That and the scrabbling sounds in the dark below. That was creepy enough all by itself to want to run away and feel the sunshine.

You could tell a lot about a society by its stairs. He hadn't really been paying much attention last night, too busy staying upright, but he _did_ notice that Cosmo was approximately the same height as Sonic - four inches taller than his own diminutive size. The stairs, on the other hand, were approximately six inches high each. Too tall to be comfortable for someone their size. He had to lift his knees up to his stomach with every step.

Human sized stairs. And a human sized door, too, with a handle right at eyeball height. Topped off by a human sized robot.

Civilisation. Somewhere.

The twin flowers still bloomed brightly, unmolested by the night's hostilities - Miles looked away before they could make him fondly remember a genocide or something. The door showed no signs of damage either as he passed it by, peering around for any sign of his benefactor, or of people who hated him less.

Bingo. An avenue of trees, flanking a grassy highway interspersed with rocks. A few squirrels scattered the area, playing among the flowers. Far beyond, though only a short jog from his perspective, Miles could see the telltale grey of stone buildings.

"Guess I'm not going to get _ahead_ in life, though." Miles scratched his chin, peering around for the missing bodypart.

No, it just felt awkward. He should leave the quips to heroes. It just felt super corny when he did it. Was his timing wrong?

Movement caught Miles' eye, a flash of red - and green. Harder to pick up on green, his brain tended to ignore it. Hard to miss _her_ though, now he saw her, walking down the avenue of trees, brushing each with her fingers as she passed.

Cosmo.

Lithe and ethereal, looking at once alien among her surroundings and as though she fundamentally _belonged_ to the forest.

The dryad gasped, wide eyed as she saw him before her expression soured.

"Thanks for letting me stay. I'll get out of your fur now. Uh, hair... _leaves_." Miles rubbed the back of his head, looking down at his feet.

"If you go near the ruins, they will kill you."

Cosmo swept past him, her perfume hitting his nose once more. Was that her natural scent? It wasn't some kind of neural defence like the flowers was it? Miles frowned.

"Thanks for the-"

"If you truly don't know what you've done, find the caretaker. For all the good it will do."

"Where's the caretaker?"

Miles turned around, but the dryad was already gone, the door of her tree shut tight.

And growing from the floor, in flowers of the same crimson hues as her own, was an arrow, pointing out into the distance.

Miles nodded, standing directly on top of the arrow and stretching his legs and tails, orienting himself with the distant mountains to help him keep his bearings.

Time to find some answers.

He burst into a sprint, feet pounding the grass below him, the grass stretching up into a steep hillside dotted by shallow cave entrances. Miles glanced into each as he passed them by, but the only sign of life was a snow white rabbit.

With a stick of dynamite strapped to its back.

What?

Miles skidded to a halt, rescuing the poor creature with a few tugs.

Seemed fairly traditional, blasting fuse, the sweet smell of nitroglycerine. There was even a deadman's switch, set to trigger with the bunny's death. What kind of sick weirdo wasted perfectly good explosives on torturing fuzzy animals? Even Robotnik didn't do that. Miles shook his head, turning his attention back to the bundle of dynamite. Within a few moments he'd liberated it and slipped it into his hammerspace. One could never have too many explosives, after all.

"Steer clear of any more crazy people, okay little bunny?" Miles rubbed a gloved finger across the back of the rabbit's head before lowering it gently to the floor to hop away into the grass.

Nice. His murder:rescue ratio for rabbits needed all the help it could get.

Anyway, civilisation. Human - or similarly sized and shaped, even the dynamite was designed for larger hands than his own - and sociopathic? Did the humans here hate fuzzy things? Was that why Cosmo warned him?

Miles shook his head, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he walked back to his original heading. He was so lost in thought musing about the signs of civilisation he'd seen so far he almost missed the next one until he nearly ran face first into it - an old wooden storage chest. Tall as him and trimmed with metal.

Some kind of supply cache? It was inside the indentation in the hill, so unlikely to be from an airdrop. Unless someone had been sheltering in here?

Seemed unlikely. The cave was shallow enough for grass to be growing inside. It wouldn't offer much, or any, protection from the weather. Let alone giant eye monsters and killer robots.

… Well, it _was_ empty _now_.

Miles shook the morbid thought from his head, clicking the chest open and peering within. His eyes lit up at the sight of processed metal bars, a handful of the crimson drinks Cosmo had given him, a pile of processed lumber…

And a stick.

With a leaf on it.

Miles raised his eyebrows as he appropriated the rest of the supplies - spoils of war. Even if the original owner _was_ still around, he was clearly a lunatic that liked to detonate fuzzy animals and therefore an enemy combatant. But why explicitly include a stick of all things? Miles held it aloft, squinting at it against the sun now peeking over the mountains - East? He'd need to bear that in mind.

Why a stick? They clearly had the means to work wood. Was it a walking stick? A... weapon? How desperate would you have to be to use _this_?

Miles gave the stick an experimental swing. He felt a _chill_ in his chest, and a blazing cloud of sparks tumbled from the tip of the stick he was holding in his hand with a low whooshing sound.

The bunny, enjoying its newfound freedom, looked up at the noise just in time to be engulfed in flame.

"Ah! Bunny!" Miles reached out helplessly towards it, but it was already far too late. The lagomorph sizzled to the floor.

Miles sighed, carefully patting out the singed fur of his arm before carefully flipping the stick over. The smell of burning fur hit him straight in the pit of his stomach, dredging up memories of countless faces before he could press them deep down inside.

That was almost a metaphor for his life right there.

Good thing he'd taken off the dynamite.

Walking over to his latest victim, Miles brushed a gloved hand against its smouldering body, watching as stray flames crackled only briefly against the grass before dousing themselves. Blackened grass became green once more in moments, though the longer blades didn't regrow.

Negative entropy. Order from disorder. The discharge from the stick had been enough to kill a rabbit, turning it from Living Rabbit to Cooked Rabbit, but not enough to fundamentally change the nature of the grass below, so it reverted.

How would this even work? More importantly, how could he use this phenomenon to help him get home?

Miles felt his body _warm_ again, a strange, uncomfortable sensation in either direction.

Some kind of survival tool? An advanced firestarter? A simple flamethrower? He wasn't sure what powered it - body heat? - but it would be handy, especially for further experiments. Fire was the first bootstrap of civilisation, after all.

He swung the stick again, slower this time. Flame sprayed from its tip once more, this time in a more coherent direction. He felt the same strange feeling of absence once more. Fire tore apart flowers, destroying all of them without a trace.

Miles nodded, swinging again. The _emptiness_ worsened. Again and again until...

Nothing. The final charge of flame sparked harmlessly against the wooden chest as the dull _emptiness_ reached its peak. Miles panted with not quite physical exhaustion.

Minutes passed. The sensation faded, replaced once more by that odd sensation of _fullness_ once more.

Well, about ten shots, swinging it too frequently did nothing, needed to recharge? And whatever it consumed regenerated, possibly because of the reverse entropy - Dentropy? Antitropy? He had a new toy, and a new world of physics to experiment with using it.

"... Sorry about killing you. And thanks." Miles said to the rabbit, picking up a body still sizzling hot from the fire that had cooked it, its temperature kept constant by dentropy. "Probably should have followed my warning though."

He turned and went on his way, carrying the rabbit with him as he went.

All this science had made him hungry, after all.


	7. Chapter 7

Ivo "Eggman" Robotnik, unparalleled genius and occasional world conqueror, was having a duvet day.

In fact, he was having a duvet _week_. His last plan had it all. An energy field bigger than his head, a giant robot, a mass-insanity generator, and a vastly convoluted scheme that had _very_ nearly netted him control over half the planet. As opposed to just his usual sprawling territory. But, once again, an annoying hedgehog and his fun-size sidekick had stepped in on his fun. They broke his newest invention, and worst of all, shut down his latest theme park and its army of deranged attendants.

It was a little demoralising.

An alarm blazed into life on Eggman's desk, screens popping up to reveal a depressingly familiar blue hedgehog charging through his foyer. Badniks and gun emplacements exploded as he streaked through them.

Eggman raised a hairless brow. This wasn't how the game was usually played. He didn't blast their homes from orbit, after all. There was a certain ritualistic quality to their engagements. Including leaving him some "me" time to think up something new and exciting for their next engagement.

Still, never interrupt your enemy when they're making a mistake and all that. Eggman neatly folded his duvet across the back of his throne, smoothing his red and green pyjamas to look a tad more presentable. Sonic would be here far before he'd managed to get dressed properly. He tapped a button on his throne and settled down to wait.

"Orbot" Clear the path for my _guest_ to come here, and see that we are not disturbed."

"You say that as if anybody else wanted to see you, boss."

"Oh, shut up!" Eggman snapped, scowling as he stared at the screen. Without opposition, Sonic accelerated towards his chamber. A mighty crash resounded from the thick metal doors as he slammed into it, body a blur of light.

Eggman hummed, idly tapping his fingers against the arm of his throne as he waited, listening and watching. The hedgehog that was his nemesis slammed time and time again into the barrier. Finally, he dropped to a crouch a short distance from the door. His body spun in place, revving like an engine as he built up speed and momentum to become a living buzzsaw that could tear through the thick steel like so much tissue.

"Finally." The doctor snorted, tapping another button on his arm rest.

Sonic launched, faster than the human eye could detect, tearing up the floor beneath him as he hurtled into the door… which opened up for him. He hurtled into the room, slamming into the grasp of a mechanical catcher's mitt poised for that very purpose.

"Eggman!" Sonic's furious yell came somewhat muffled through the thick padding around him.

"Why, _Sonic_." Eggman clapped his hands. The mitt pinched mechanical fingers around the hedgehog's spines to dangle him in front of his throne. "To what do I owe this unexpected _pleasure_?"

"Don't play- Whoa, new look? Looks good on you. Slimming. Now where's Tails?!"

"Tails?" Eggman rubbed his bald head with a frown. "Tails who?"

Sonic growled, struggling to wriggle free of the mitt.

"Oh! Of course. Fox? Yay high? Bane of my existence second only to you?" Eggman snorted. "Haven't seen him."

"Why- You're gonna be sorry when I find out what you've done with him!" Sonic kicked out, bending the metal contraption with the impact, but its grip held firm.

"Sonic, my dear boy. Do you remember what happened the last time I captured you?" Eggman stood, posturing grandly against the finery of his throne room, a motion only mildly spoiled by being in his pyjamas. "You were locked up for six months. Fox boy was _useless_ without you. I took over _the entire planet_? Good times."

Sonic went to reply, but Eggman clicked his tongue. A swarm of robotic mouths popped out of the ground at his feet, shushing him.

"And do you remember what happened the last time anyone captured _Tails_? He was out and thwarting my plans by the _end of the afternoon_."

Sonic scowled, body quivering in silent rage.

"Get it? Fox boy simply isn't worth my time nowadays. Without you, he's _harmless_. Too busy being afraid of his own shadow. While _you_ on the other hand..."

Eggman's finger was halfway down to his control panel when the first bolt fell out of the mitt. It crumbled apart moments later. Sonic had vibrated it apart with his own body.

Before Eggman could blink, the blue blur launched itself at him. Hands clutched his pyjama shirt tight enough to strain the fabric as the diminutive mobian stared him in the eye, feet planted on his chest.

"You had _better_ be telling the truth."

By the time Eggman had finished falling backwards, the hedgehog was gone. The exploding sound barrier heralded his departure.

"Sonic finished beating you up again, boss?" Orbot trundled into the room a few moments later, a steaming mug balanced on a tray held in the crimson robot's crimson fingers.

"Oh, I'm sure it went _great_ before Sonic beat you up _this_ time, right, boss?" Cubot, Orbot's boxy yellow counterpart, spoke up from the doorway.

"... I don't think he hears us. He's doing the hand thing again."

"Quiet, you imbeciles. I'm _thinking_." Eggman snatched the mug from the tray, gulping the bitter drink as he sat, still brooding on the grease stained floor. "And clean up this mess!"

"Oh gross." Cubot sighed, staring at the scattered mechanical parts. "Not again."

Twirling his moustache around a finger, the doctor let out a dark chuckle.

"With the fox out of the way, what a _delicious_ opportunity to deal with that hedgehog once and for all!"

The chuckle grew into a deep maniacal cackle, the doctor's rotund belly quivering until he suddenly stopped short.

"Wait. Who _did_ take Tails?"

* * *

Miles trudged forward, goggles pulled down to protect his eyes from the grains of grayish purple sand lashing at his body.

At least he'd found the source of the smell. This tainted desert _reeked_ , and the sandstorm only made it worse. Every grain of sand carried the sickly sweet stench of putrefaction and rot. He couldn't get used to it no matter how long he'd been stuck out in it.

He couldn't even see the mountains he was using to orient himself now. And the wind was strong enough that if he tried to use his tails to move he'd get dragged off into the sky.

Well, there were _other_ reasons he didn't much want to be up there as well.

So slow and steady it was. He'd been needing to work on his leg exercises anyway.

If only it wasn't for the smell. A scarf would have come in handy right now. It wasn't as though it was hot, after all. Quite the opposite. Dull clouds choked out the sun shortly after he arrived in the desert, and the blustering winds showed no signs of managing to shift them. As though the taint extended all the way up to the atmosphere.

A shape loomed briefly up ahead of Miles, jutting triangular spines that swiftly sank back beneath the surface. He frowned, white cheeks caked with grains of purple. His world had sand worms, vast monsters that devoured anything foolish enough to wander the barren wastes of places like the Green Hill zone. A regional variant?

He kept walking, treading softer than before, his tails dragging along the sand at his feet.

It wouldn't be the first horror he'd met today. A massive floating monster with too many eyes and wriggling flagella had swooped in at him as soon as he'd approached the desert. It had flown high above, launching globules of rancid spit the size of his head until he'd applied his Science Stick to it more than two dozen times. He thought he'd seen several more like it drifting through the skies above a few times now. Whether they'd not noticed him or didn't dare risk the hostile environment down here he wasn't sure.

Well, environment or predators. Another shape loomed up ahead, twice his size and covered in thick, jagged spines.

… A cactus. Miles peered at it, tapping its hard surface. Unlike the thorns from before, it showed no signs of giving way to his touch. Possibly useful as a-

The sand at his feet shifted. Forewarned by his tails, Miles threw himself to the side as a creature burst from the sand, fishlike fins wriggling. Chunks of cactus oozed viscous yellow liquid down a bony beak large enough to swallow him whole. Multiple eyes in all the wrong places locked onto him for a moment before it slipped back beneath the surface once more.

Miles ran.

Or tried to. Sand sprayed behind him as his sneakers skidded over the loose grains. He stumbled, sprawling across the floor. The ground just in front of his nose transformed into a gaping maw, snapping shut close enough to wrench a few strands of fur from his forehead.

Miles lashed his tails forward into an eyeball encrusted flank. The blow left a deep gash of bubbling green before he pounced on all fours beneath it. The wind, momentarily broken by the sand horror's presence, struck him once more with full force. He almost stumbled back into the creature's mouth as it slammed back down to the sand.

No good. It was luck he'd tripped it that time. He just wasn't heavy enough to manoeuvre _and_ stay on the ground. He'd-

Miles launched himself to the side as a sand horror launched towards him. A second mouth barely missed it and him both as it snapped upwards, the signs where he'd struck it before still visible.

And there was more than one of them. Great.

Miles dropped low to the ground once more, feeling the sand flowing beneath him with his fingertips, lips moving as he silently counted the seconds, calculating...

Now.

He leapt sideways, stabbing his tails into the floor for anchorage. Pulling _both_ his sticks from hammerspace he threw the first into the first monster's mouth and swung the second to light it in one fluid motion.

Again.

He dragged himself backwards with his tails, delivering a punch hard enough to shatter stone to the second creature's largest eye. It flopped sideways, the first monster crashing down on top of it to drag both down into the sandy depths.

Miles flicked green from his glove.

"Bon appe- _ptooey_!" Miles spat foul tasting grit from his mouth. Eugghhh. Should have kept his mouth shut.

There was silence for another few seconds, as though the universe was daring him to try quipping again. Then the sand around him shifted with the rumble of a subterranean explosion.

A cavernous hole opened in the sand below, revealing pale yellow bricks a stark contrast with the surrounding purple... And the green streaked remains of the two sand monsters.

Miles briefly managed to wonder where all the sand had disappeared to before the wind dragged him spiralling down into the depths.


	8. Chapter 8

Nine seconds.

Miles swung his stick again, the crackling flames illuminating glittering precious metals and ancient hieroglyphs.

Nine seconds before he could swing again, while keeping whatever intangible power source topped up. The less he'd used, the faster it recovered.

Seven point eight one seconds in the dark.

Any less, and he wouldn't feel that telltale feeling of _fullness_.

Any longer, and he'd lose his absolute fuzzknuckles down here.

It had seemed the perfect plan. Wander into the dark spooky pyramid that had been buried under magically disappearing sand. Get out of the storm, get away from the sand horrors and spitters, wander alone in the dark listening to the rustling whispers of the restless dead.

Okay, maybe not the _perfect_ plan.

Miles swung. The corridor had expanded to an ornate chamber, ancient vases and stone slabs stretching into the dark, dim flame reflecting off a thousand surfaces.

Wow, Knuckles would love it down here. Researching ancient civilisations was one of the few things the pair did together since he'd cut off his training regimen. No point in learning martial arts when Sonic wanted other, better, people doing the fighting.

The Echnida's ability to punch hard enough to create fire wouldn't have been unappreciated either. Miles sighed as the light winked out again, the horrors of his imagination worse than any tentacled fiend that reality could conjure.

Pyramids were burial chambers, after all. And of the things that terrified Miles worst of all, Ghosts were a proud number three.

Miles inched forward, threading his way between stone slabs that housed reaching arms to drag him into nothing - at least in his mind. Creeping over tumbling coins and gilded treasure that would have wowed a few of his more materially minded frie- associates, but to him were closer to an alarm bell, signalling his presence with one false step.

A dry, rattling chuckle jolted its way up Miles' spine. He shivered, the fur on his tails fluffing out so much as to send a metal container clattering over. He bumped into something solid.

Miles swung. Flames illuminated the gloom. He'd bumped into a supply chest, the same style as the one he'd found before but golden yellow. He swung again, clicking open the lid…

And again.

Dirt.

A cube of soil the size of his head, showing no sign of crumbling. Miles lifted it in his hands, eyebrow raised.

Whatever. Science could wait. He slipped it into his hammerspace and swung again. A pile of over a dozen slender poles the length of his arm and tipped with a crusty residue. More metal bars as well? He snatched them both, thinking vaguely of his failing "ammo" as he swung again and again. Rope? Always useful. Even for him. Miles coiled it up, peeking to make sure the chest was empty before the dim sparklight died once more.

The jolting laugh echoed again through the dark. Miles swung. Too early, nothing. He swung twice more in his haste before the stick finally reset, light illuminating a humanoid shadow at the far side of the chamber, facing away from him.

"Uh… Hello?"

Sweet Yamaguchi he _hated_ himself for calling out.

The sparks faded as the figure began to turn towards him.

"Are you the caretaker?"

He swung again. The figure had covered half the distance between them, face covered in shifting shadows by the tumbling light source that flew over its shoulder, He could hear liquid spattering across the stone floor.

Ninth shot. Miles flinched at the realisation. One left. Who -probably what- ever it was it was going to have a nice long uninterrupted chat with him in the dark.

Extending one of the poles in front of him, Miles swung his final tiny, sparks mercifully catching against the pole and causing it to blaze up into a crackling flame, revealing his surroundings in the slightly more permanent glow of torchlight.

And the figure's horrible face, inches from his own. A sideways opening mouth gaped between hollow sockets, chattering in vile laughter, viscous green spittle trickling down its chin as it leaned down towards him. Miles fell backwards with a startled yell, coins shifting beneath him. A droplet of spit landed on his fur, igniting into a blazing green flame.

"Agh!" Miles batted at it as he scrabbled back, hissing in pain, but only succeeded in spreading it to his hand.

The creature laughed again, looming down over him, its massive human size enormous compared to his own, admittedly tiny, frame. From the shadows where Miles had come, two figures shuffled silently from the shadows, necrotic black flesh peeking from between loosely wrapped bandages grey with filth and age.

Whimpering with pain, Miles twisted, keeping his tails high and clear from his burning limbs as he pounced on all fours onto the closest mummy. The green flame spread across its papyrus dry body from one hand while the flame from his torch blazed from the other. He vaulted off without stopping, his own skin blackening as he drove a burning fist into the crotch of the second mummy, sending it tumbling over, folded at the waist.

Solid. Not ghosts.

He'd have been relieved in other circumstances.

The sideways monster laughed again, leaping all the way up to the ceiling to clear the stone slabs dividing them, but Miles was on all fours, already swinging. His tails struck dry, papery flesh with the same force he would use to destroy a metal tank. Half the monster tumbled to the ground, flesh hissing and bubbling against metal until nothing remained. The rest followed suit a few moments later on the far end of the hall.

The flames on Miles' hand and leg finally dimmed, whatever accelerant had been in the monster's venom now consumed, and the flames guttered out a few moments later. Miles quickly brushed the still glowing cinders of his fur away. The motion exposed raw, seeping flesh where there had once been fur and fabric. Stomach roiling at the sight and smell, Miles clutched stone to steady himself...

A rasping moan broke through the pain. Adrenaline brought his mind back on track. Three more mummies crept into the light of his torch as the two he'd burned staggered back to their feet, still smouldering. Their footsteps eerily silent as they stalked towards him once more, groaning softly.

Shaking his head with a grimace, Miles limped deeper into the pyramid.

* * *

Sonic and Tails had it _easy_.

Knuckles stood at the "front" of his island, staring up at the Lost Hex with his arms folded against the bitter, and growing, chill.

Ever since he'd first met them, it had been the two of them together, an unstoppable force that time and time again had served to take on _anything_ , even him, and come out on top.

But Knuckles had something neither of them had.

That was high enough now, he could feel the soft strain of the Master Emerald from its altar as it held the floating island high above the clouds with its power.

Knuckles leapt into space, gliding on a cushion of frigid air down towards the closest archipelago.

_He_ had lived through the war without them. He was rough, tough and _independent_. Unlike Tails, he'd _never_ let Sonic's apparent death stop him from doing what needed to be done. Unlike Sonic, he'd already been forced to learn how to make do without Tails' genius before.

Well, he hadn't exactly been _winning_. Nobody had. Eggman's genius was overwhelming, his minions endless, his general unstoppable. The resistance had spent the entire time fighting just to stay alive, the last fraction of a fraction of all the mobian territories that remained free. It was a _miracle_ Eggman's forces never found their last stronghold.

Knuckles slammed into stone and dirt, knuckle spikes slicing easily into the solid surface to allow him to climb up to the island top. Peculiar red vines and grass pulled at his gloves and boots, like tiny tentacles latching onto him as soon as he climbed close enough only to lose their tenuous grip the moment he moved.

This wasn't normal. Even so far as the Lost Hex wasn't normal, even by his standards. With his attunement to the Master Emerald and chaos as finely honed as it was, he could _feel_ the distortion in this place, even worse than it had been in the Green Hills. It was as though the land was alive… and hungry.

For what he wasn't sure. Maybe him. Maybe everything.

A low burbling cry sounded from below. Knuckles glanced down to see a fleshy mound - no, a _spider_ , easily three times his size, oddly mammalian bones jutting from its rubbery pink flesh. Viciously barbed limbs sliced chunks from the earth as it crawled towards him.

"No way!"

Knuckles climbed faster, tearing through vines in his haste. Crimson liquid trickled from the broken leaves, splashing his cheeks.

The spider was gaining on him, and faster than he could climb. Dig into the wall? Could it follow? Its crimson legs sliced into stone as easily as his knuckles did, after all.

Jagged mandibles snapped at his legs. The arachnid's entire body wobbled as it let out another distorted shriek.

"It's over..."

Eight milky white eyes reflected his boots, jaws opening wide enough to wrap around him head to toe.

"For you!"

Knuckles leapt backwards off the sheer surface as the spider snapped down, catching the wind to twist over on himself midair before gliding into the spider's back at full speed. The impact crushed its abdomen, and the spider's fleshy body lost cohesion, tearing apart under its own weight to tumble into the endless void below.

"Augh! That's disgusting." Knuckles flicked a chunk of the creature's vertebrae out off his spines with a scowl.

Fighting robots was _way_ less messy.

Still, almost to the top now. He kept climbing, the now slippery surface still no match for his spurs. Luckily he made it to the top without seeing any more spiders.

Wasn't this supposed to be the Silent Forest zone? Well, plenty of trees, but… It was supposed to be green and swampy, right? Not red leafed trees with ashen bark. What liquid remained was thin and tinged a dull reddish pink, dotted with blood red thorns jutting from the banks and the writhing red "grass" that strained towards him. There was no sign of the zone's original wildlife.

Smelled like blood.

Well. Might be him though, still covered in spider gunk.

Movement caught Knuckles' eye, a crimson red shape floated from behind the vines, three orange eyes glancing too and fro as it drifted, little tentacles wiggling beneath its spiky head.

He breathed in relief. Just a wisp.

Wisps were an altogether more benevolent alien invader than the Black Doom. Sonic and Tails had managed to communicate with and befriend them on an earlier adventure, and a population had followed them home. They were powerful but passive, and usually willing to lend that power to a good cause.

They also had a language. Before his disappearance, Tails had left him with a cipher back when Sonic had been captured so that the resistance forces could negotiate with wisps for assistance, nesting in capsules ready to be used in Wispon weaponry.

Would… sorta been useful if he'd held onto that.

Whatever, wisps understood normal words even if they couldn't speak them. Maybe.

"Hey!" Knuckles waved a hand.

The wisp froze above a pool of vile liquid, wide eyed staring at him.

"Uh, yeah, I'm a friend of Sonic and Tails? You know 'em? Looking for the little orange guy. You seen him around?"

The wisp hissed, the entire top of its head flipping open to reveal far, far too many teeth, before zipping away into the undergrowth. Knuckles rubbed his head with a frown. Wisps normally didn't even have a _mouth_. That? That was _weird_.

"I love it!"

The nasally cry of joy echoed out through the trees. A voice Knuckles only vaguely knew, mostly from Sonic's second hand account of his time on the island.

"Zor." He punched the air, friction warming his arms before stomping forward, crushing thorns beneath the soles of his boots as he approached the source of the noise.

The scrawniest of the zeti, still strong - by Sonic's standards - with weird evil zeti magic stuff and a twisted, gloomy at odds with what he was saying. He could beat the Penders out of him and get some- There!

Knuckles leapt over a wall of thorns, landing into a combat stance on the other side with a thump.

"Alright, Zeti! Tell me where you- oh no!"


	9. Chapter 9

Big was good at waiting.

Fishing had lots of waiting, and Big did lots of fishing.

It was easy to wait at Tails' house. Tails always had nice food to eat. Even though he didn't eat it.

Big didn't understand why Tails didn't eat nice food.

Amy said a bad word again. She kicked the sofa and held her face.

Amy was _not_ very good at waiting.

Big patted her tiny head. Sad people that didn't smile were easy to understand. Even when they were mad about being sad. He didn't like that his friend was sad. But at least she was Amy right now.

Sometimes Amy was not Amy. Like when she looked at the important pictures on Tails' table.

Amy rubbed her eyes and smiled at him.

"Sorry, Big. That wasn't very nice of me to kick your chair."

Big nodded. It was Tails' chair. He was just sitting on it. But that was okay. Everyone made mistakes sometimes.

"I'm just worried about Tails, you know?" Amy sat on the couch next to him. It was a tight fit.

Big nodded again.

"I know he's tougher than he looks… Well, _most_ people are tougher than he looks, but he doesn't take _care_ of himself. Sometimes… I don't know. He's not stronger than a Zeti, that's for sure. And he's so… so _scared_ of everything."

Big nodded. He hadn't noticed. Amy was very smart though, so she was probably right.

"It's not like he hasn't disappeared before. I know _none_ of us were at our best during the war."

Big had been off fishing during the war. He hadn't even seen a robot.

He'd seen lots of fish though.

That was nice.

"And there was that time he got kidnapped last month. He's been even _worse_ since then. But…"

"I like him too."

"Wh-what? Oh. Yeah. Me too, Big." Amy rubbed her shoulder and looked even sadder. "Thanks for listening. I'm sure he'll be okay. Tails is too smart to do anything stupid."

* * *

Well, this was going to be _extraordinarily_ stupid.

Miles stared at the supply chest with a frown, his torch of crackling green flame shining an eerie light across the walls of the blackened stone cavern.

Sometimes it paid to take risks. Sometimes the only _rational_ approach was to weigh up all the variables and take a chance. Like wandering into a stygian cavern of rotting sand, full of murderous subterranean cactus balls, sideways-faced nightmares and an army of monsters that looked like someone had pressed them together out of rotten meat before going _all out_ on the eyeballs.

Or like picking up fire. _That_ had been pretty dumb. But thanks to the contagious nature of the green flame he was now the proud - and very careful - owner of a torch that couldn't be extinguished by water.

_It's okay to be wrong, sometimes._

The third and final message on the note left to him by parents he'd never met, though if he could wrap his head around the causality it was actually _Doodle_ who'd given him that particular piece of wisdom. Possibly. His personal timeline wasn't exactly "linear" after his time on Little Planet, and his parents had never been around to tell him exactly what words were supposed to be on the burnt scrap of paper he had been left with.

Hopefully "sorry" had been among of them.

But being wrong was valuable wisdom for this situation nonetheless. Miles was like a toddler, exploring a strange new environment the only ways he knew how, taking some bumps and bruises along the way - and losing half the fur on his face - but learning important lessons all the time. Like how torches didn't ever burn out, how his body, and even glove, regenerated slowly over time with no trace of a scar. Like however vile or terrifying these abominations were, they bled, and so he could kill them, so he could _handle_ things. The only flesh and blood creature that _really_ scared him was himself.

Some creatures seemed to have their own hammerspace, which unfolded when they died. _That_ had given him some trouble. That normally only happened with dying mobians, and the last thing he needed alone in the dark was how familiar he was with dying mobians. But a few of the side-faces had ejected strange black stones, as well as the stable "glob" of fire, while a lot of the rot monsters gave up faintly glowing motes of energy that hovered around their fading corpses. He'd picked those up too. Had turned out _much_ better than picking up the fire.

But this? Miles shook his head, still staring at the supply chest.

This was a whole new level of stupid.

He'd _just_ passed by this spot a few minutes ago. He remembered since he'd knocked open a selection of old jars and discovered several pre-lit bombs inside, the same classic, spherical design he'd used back on Cocoa Island. The explosion had left a deep crater, revealing the dead end passage he'd just explored, and the displaced stone had warped together in a dense cube much like the dirt he'd found. That probably explained the disappearing sand in desert, though he'd not noticed anything through the vortex of foul smelling grit.

And now here was a nice shiny supply chest, sat at the base of the crater.

As far as traps went, it was an exceedingly simple one, embarrassingly so. But traps denoted a certain level of _intelligence_ , something that had been sorely lacking from the animalistic hunger of the rot monsters, however human some of them appeared at first glance.

Perhaps clothes really did make the man?

Or accessories at least. Miles rubbed his gloved hands with a frown.

No, wait, Zeti didn't wear clothes and they were reasonably intelligent, while bandages sort of counted and the mummies he'd faced hadn't- Miles tapped his lips thoughtfully, wrenching his thoughts back on track.

So was he supposed to _touch_ the chest to trigger the ambush? It went against every instinct in his body, but after so many days alone down here, frankly it would be nice to talk to another person at this point, even if they showed up with duct tape and a grenade.

Miles straightened, eyes firmly on his surroundings as he reached for the lid of the chest with aching caution.

Which was probably the worst thing he could have done, since otherwise he might have noticed the chest's keyhole _blink_ in time to pull his hand back.

Miles stared down at his wrist for a few moments, wondering in a daze where his hand went before the chest lunged at him, its lid wide enough to fit him inside. Blood glittered on its jagged metal "fangs".

Miles leapt up on raw instinct, tails spinning to carry him up and out of the crater as the chest monster leapt after him, ramming itself against the sheer wall of stone over and over again.

Some kind of Peckhamian mimicry, intended to lure in sapients? Or had some person distributed the chests in the first place intentionally to pave the way for these creatures?

Miles shuddered as his body caught up with his missing appendage. Fishing out a bandage he'd received from a particularly determined mummy he gulped down a bottle of crimson liquid.

The nausea was worse than the pain.

Well, the pain was pretty bad. He _felt_ bones pop and stretch in rapidfire bursts of agony as fresh tissue spurted from his wrist. Nerve tissue shrieked as the healing power of the vile drink ceased, leaving them raw and exposed.

But… he'd had _worse_. Endlessly breaking down and reforming constantly, body and mind stretched out across eternity by the Time Stones. In comparison this _expected_ agony was, if not dull, at least manageable.

A sign of his growing detachment.

Miles sighed, methodically wrapping the bandage over the grisly sight of his half formed hand while the hungry box tirelessly ravaged at stone below.

"You owe me a new glove."

The monster, or possibly automaton, didn't respond. So much for intelligent life. Miles slammed down on the thing from above, rope spooling from the nothing at his side before he looped it over and around the chest's "mouth", sealing it shut.

It looked almost pitiful in a way, single eye swivelled helplessly. Like a crab with its claws tied shut.

Not that Miles had much sympathy. He twirled his torch between his remaining fingers, jabbing it into a gap on the side of the wall before slamming his tails into the creature time and again until its shell cracked open and blood oozed out.

Well, that was that question answered for one more denizen of this horrible place. Miles tugged the rope free and the chest beast fell apart, innards hissing as they melted into the stone to leave behind a pile of metal that presumably was the contents of its stomach.

Miles frowned, scraping the metal from side to side with a cautious toe before finally picking it up in his hand. Twin hooks, one red, the other blue, connected by a length of chain. His missing hand was conspicuously absent.

"I said you owed me a _glove_." Miles frowned, swinging the chain experimentally. Both ends erupted forth, the chain stretching to effortlessly until the hooks slammed into the distant ceiling. They retracted once more, one hook snapping back into place while the other clamped down against the wall, dragging him after it at breakneck speed. He slammed into dirt with a soft thud, sending a fresh wave of agony through his partially regenerated hand.

Okay, so apparently a physics defying grapnel? That was… Sort of redundant, actually. He had so many mobility options already. At least he could use it to hang off things while he reset his tails, maybe? Not really worth all the trouble. Or the glove. Miles frowned, dangling in the dark, the soft glow of the hook illuminating the rock above in the absence of his abandoned torch.

Okay, well, this wasn't _super_ useful, but at least he knew how to deal with the chest mimics... Peckhams? in future. Probably should hold off on doing anything else that was stupid until his hand finished growing back. Miles fiddled with the hook until it disengaged from the ceiling, landing with a soft against the dark stone floor.

"Hello?" A girl's distant voice echoed from the dark, almost making Miles jump right back to the ceiling again. "Is anyone there?"

"H-hey!" Miles thought only briefly of dynamite before calling out. "Where are you?"

"Please! Can someone help me? It's so dark!"

She sounded terrified, lost somewhere in this seemingly endless network of underground caves, possibly even another trap.

Miles sighed, pressing down his raised fur as he turned his ears too and fro. The sound of gentle sobbing had replaced the girl's fearful cries.

Time to do another stupid thing.

* * *

Knuckles stepped back, part from surprise, mostly revulsion at the gross sight before him.

Zor was _rolling_ in the thorns, driving them into his body on purpose, a smile on his gloomy white face, veins of red creeping across his pallid flesh. Even his hair had strands of red among the purple, looking suspiciously like the "grass" even now plucking at Knuckles' feet.

"What do _you_ want?" Zor stared at him with a morose sigh, smile dimming to a gloomy sneer.

The bloody plants stretched after him as he rolled to a slouched sitting position. It wasn't just the white parts of his skin that were marked red. Crimson lines criss-crossed his black legs, and even his horns and claws had cracks of red breaking through.

"Uh… Where's... Tails?" Knuckles hesitated. This had taken a lot of the wind out of his sails, to be honest.

"The fox?" Zor shrugged, shuddering as the motion tore a thorn from his shoulder with a snap. "Haven't seen him since he almost shot me. It's been months." He sighed again. "Could have at least finished the job."

Okay, now Knuckles almost didn't _want_ to fight this guy. He'd enjoy it way too much.

"You sure? He was last seen on Windy Hill this morning researching all… this." He waved his mitt at the weirdness around him.

Zor shook his head. "Windy Hill's Zeena's turf. _I_ only go there when I want a beating."

Hm. Alright. So they weren't working together on this? That was going to make finding Tails harder.

"Alright, thanks. I'll leave you to your, uh, thing."

"What's that?" Zor twitched, blinking yellow eyes tinged with red. "You want him too?"

The Zeti's face split into a wide grin and kept on splitting, mouth drooping down to his waist.

"You heard her, stranger." Zor's voice slurred from his newly distended tongue. "Mother _wants_ you."

Knuckles punched him in the face. Zor crashed through a dozen tainted trees.

"Yeah, should have done that earlier." Knuckles shook his head with a frown. Hopefully creepy wasn't contagious.

The grass underfoot _pulsed_ , and Zor exploded back through the undergrowth, slamming Knuckles down to the ground. The Zeti stood above him, wounds dripping blood that turned into small creeping red spiders that swarmed towards the fallen echidna.

"It's not so bad, _brother_." Zor's smile extended even further, his downcast eyes weeping crimson tears that crawled to join their brethren below. "It's always nice to have family."


	10. Chapter 10

Sept bolted upright, tiny heart hammering in her chest, tears streaming down white furred cheeks.

Miles was coming to _kill_ her.

But... what remained of her broken mind struggled as she stared up at the only ceiling this body had ever known, dim lights turned low.

He already did?

Her body relaxed. That's right. She had waved goodbye to him as they left home... _after_ he killed her.

Well, that was alright. He'd had a good reason. Sept remembered being _bad_.

She didn't remember thinking it was bad at the time. But it _was_ bad. Of that she was certain. She'd done something bad to Amy. She'd done something bad to all of them. And now they were rabbits. Like her. Or something even worse. Like Amy. Or...

Sept yanked at an ear, as though pulling the bad thoughts out. She was too old to be young and too young to be old. Her head was already too crowded for bad thoughts. Losing stuff all the time.

No. Miles needed her. Miles _loved_ her. And she loved him.

Even though she was only a Sept.

Even though she was a Cream.

Unless he knew what she did.

Unless he killed her again for it.

If only she could push good thoughts _in_ through her ears.

Too full of memories of faces no longer attached to names, minds no longer themselves. Too full of promises and plans it was all she could do to remember that she was _Sept_ , all she could do to _hold on_ to herself, to be bad and lie because that was what she remembered she _wanted_ herself to do even if _she_ didn't want it anymore and-

"Why aren't you sleeping?" The Cream pretending to be herself glared at Sept from across the aisle, the only other Cream awake. Sept blinked at her a moment, sluggish brain straining. To forget. She was only Sept, after all. She _only_ had to remember one thing.

"I'm sorry, Miss Cream." Sept shrank down against her chair, wiping her ear across her eyes. "I'll be quiet."

The biggest Cream silently raised her hand, beckoning roughly, and Sept crept from seat to reclined seat towards her, careful not to wake the others, ears held tight in her hands as though she still had tails.

"I had a bad dream is-"

Arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close to the older rabbit.

"It's okay," Cream whispered.

Sept shivered against Cream's chest, thoughts corralled into confusion, safe, stable confusion.

"It's okay," Cream repeated, laying a hand against Sept's head.

Cream was kind, caring, and sweet.

Sept tugged at her ear again.

She _couldn't_ be Cream. She had to be Sept.

"I'm sorry for yelling." Fingertips pattered across Sept's back. "I just… I have bad dreams too."

Sept flinched under those soft fingers, tears spilling down white cheeks.

"I'm sorry." She whimpered, tiny arms struggling to encircle the larger rabbit. "I'm so sorry."

But Cream said no more. She didn't throw her aside or yell. And eventually the soft drumming of her fingertips replaced Sept's sobbing apologies with the soft sounds of sleep once more.

And the Cream pretending to be Cream sighed, closing her eyes to return to her own nightmares.

* * *

"Is he back? Did you find him?"

Sonic streaked to a halt beside Amy, the words arriving shortly after he did, and the evening chill even further behind as the door banged shut after him.

"Not yet." Amy sighed from Tails' chair. "Tails' machine thing spat out something about some huge energy spike in Windy Hill awhile back." Amy held out a piece of paper with a scrawled line across it. "Could be related?"

"Huh?" Sonic stared at her. "How did _you_ get Tails' gizmo to work? Didn't he say never to touch it?"

"I am a lady of _many_ talents." Amy snapped. "Also I never went near it."

Big let out a sudden rush of breath from his seat on the couch, where he was sat watching the broken TV's static with every sign of enjoyment. Amy cast a dark look in his direction.

"I was just _sitting_ here, minding my own business. And it just spat out a piece of paper. While I was sitting here. Not sure what it might be, but could be worth checking it out with that scanner he gave you?"

"Great. I'm going to have to run to another lab to pick up a Tornado." Sonic shook his head, moving listlessly about the room. "What about G.U.N? Did they send Shadow?"

"Why? Can't handle this yourself, Sonic?"

Sonic spun around to face the black and red hedgehog standing at the open lab door, barely visible against the night sky.

"Whoa, Shadow! Were you hiding waiting to step out like that?" He gazed at him half-lidded.

"Obviously I _just_ got here." Shadow snorted, brushing snow from the thick white fur on his chest as he walked in. "You mentioned Black Arms. Talk."

"Tails first." Sonic returned Shadow's crimson-dc eyed glare with one of his own. "What does G.U.N know?"

"G.U.N lost sight of the fox before he entered the Lost Hex. Believe me, they're looking."

Sonic clenched his jaw.

"We think someone grabbed him. Might be Black Arms." Sonic looked away, frowning. "I'd… really appreciate your help."

"Of course." Shadow nodded. "If it really is the Black Arms there's no time to lose. Where's your plane?"

"Uhh, you didn't come in a helicopter?"

"What are you talking about, wouldn't you have heard it? I came straight from Station Square."

"Oh. Well, y'see, we sort of _crashed_ all of our planes. And Tails isn't here to fix them, so… Sort of hoping for a lift?" Sonic grinned weakly, rubbing his head.

Shadow rolled his eyes, slipping a communicator out of hammerspace. "Rouge. It's me… Yes." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. " _Yes,_ you were. Just get out here."

He flipped the communicator away with a scowl. "You are _pathetic_. Let's go. The transport will be here in five."

"Race ya while we wait?" Sonic hopped from foot to foot. It would be good to burn off some frustration.

"...Fine. Beating you shouldn't take that long."

"Amy! Stay here for when Knuckles checks in, okay? I'll let you know as soon as we find anything."

"Okay-" The pair vanished out of the door, parallel blurs of colour. "... Bye."

Amy sighed, chair spinning from the force of their departure.

" _Boys_. No, not you, Big. Go back to… watching your… show."

Staring out of the window with a sigh Amy settled back to her tedious vigil.

* * *

How long had it been?

The last of his food had been and gone, even one _disturbing_ burger that had dropped from an eyeball monster's hammerspace. There had even been a crumpled receipt from some unknown restaurant.

Miles was busily trying not to think too hard about what that meant about the many, _many_ monsters he'd come up against over the last few days.

But still the endless sobbing beckoned him deeper.

Hopefully Amy wasn't too mad he missed their trip together. Honestly sitting in a café watching her smile as she schemed about getting Sonic's attention sounded pretty great right now, and not because he'd just had to fish a decomposing eyeball out of his ear. Okay, partly that, but not _just_ that.

And the sobbing beckoned him deeper.

Hopefully Sonic was okay, too. He'd never had to worry about Sonic much before. His hero had earned that title many times over already, the fastest thing alive. The one who could beat every villain, slay every monster... Except for possibly Miles himself. But... 

Miles slipped aside as an oily blob dripped from a ledge above, snapping his tails to slice it apart. The still animated pieces clung to him, and he could feel the dull burn as they started to feed before he flicked them off to splatter against the wall.

Robotnik's schemes now were a lot more complex than they were in the old days. It was rare for there not to be _some_ trick involved that couldn't be solved by coming at it full speed. Miles sighed as he absorbed the remaining gel in his fur into hammerspace. And the rabbits would have arrived by now, too. Perhaps Sonic wouldn't ask too closely about them? It was all details. He hated details. He'd just help them and move on, same as always... right?

Miles rubbed the back of his head with his newly regenerated hand, still wrapped in the bandage he'd not bothered to remove. Another cliff ahead. How deep was he? Hundreds of meters? Miles? It didn't _feel_ any warmer, but with physics effectively inverted that meant nothing. He frowned as he peered into the vast chasm. A dull red glow pulsed from the darkness below, rhythmic… fascinating.

He leapt.

If only Sonic was here. If only _anyone_ was here. Anything not to be alone in the dark, stolen sleep saturated with nightmares, grudging wakefulness plagued with monsters even more horrid. Better yet, if only he _wasn't_ here. Had he died? Had Zeena finally killed him dragging him into a black hole? Was this mad world his just desserts for the things he'd done? A consequence of all the _necessary sacrifices_ that his rational mind had demanded?

The approaching ground interrupted Miles' growing misery. Spinning his tails a moment before impact, he alighted just before the glow. The girl's weeping grew in intensity all around him along with something softer… Deeper.

A heartbeat.

A crystalline heart, glowing with a light all its own, sprouting from the stone. The green light of his torch didn't reflect off its facets as he approached. A soft voice whispered unknown words at the edge of hearing.

"Hello?" Miles peered around, but the whisper ceased, only to resume when he returned his attention to the glittering gem before him.

He reached out his bandaged hand, the fur of his fingertips standing on end to dance across its smooth surface. Miles lifted the heart aloft, feeling it _pulse_ in his hand.

The whispers grew in force and intensity and fervour and _stopped_.

Miles bit into the heart.

The hard outer surface crunched away to a soft, pulpy interior, the taste of blood flowed freely down his throat. Dark vigour surged through his slender muscles, the aches and pains fading and replaced by a vile nausea, this time not physical, but instead a grim disturbance that coiled around his own chest, a _wrongness._ A _violation_.

The whispering voice had been his own.

"No!" Miles tore the remains of the heart from his lips, crimson liquid dribbling down his chin. The heart shattered against a distant wall as he dropped to the earthen floor, shuddering and retching, trying to scrape the taint from his chest with fingers too dull for the task.

The feeling didn't decrease, it _diffused_ , spreading about his body with every beat of his own heart, as though the inky blackness that surrounded him now slipped in through every pore, expanded until every part of him was as wrong and as terrible as this endless tomb of rot and horror.

Miles crouched, clutching his head and shuddering.

"Sonic…"

His plea was lost in the dark, much as he was. Sonic was not here, could _never_ be in a place so hopeless and grim.

But somewhere down here a girl was crying all the same, sad and miserable. In desperate need of a hero.

So Miles forced himself to his feet once more, feeling sickened but whole, compromised and bolstered all at once. Hardly a hero, but standing all the same.

Because the sobbing beckoned him deeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it took awhile, but now all Eternal Tails stories have been edited and ported to AO3. Expect future updates to be at a somewhat slower pace dependent on the caffeine level in my bloodstream and overall enthusiasm level for making small fuzzy people suffer.


	11. Chapter 11

A girl shivered in the dark, her bare skin pale and bruised from too long underground, too long at the mercy of the horrors that lived there.

The flickering glow of firelight reached deep sunken violet eyes. The girl looked at it mutely, tears momentarily stilled as a slender figure stepped into view. The light came from a bright yellow mining helmet, its wearer ragged and worn, limping towards her.

The figure hefted a pickaxe in one long arm, the edges of bleached bones visible beneath a tattered blue uniform as the creature approached, bare bones clicking together as it moved.

The girl lowered her head once more, teal hair dropping to cover her face as a fresh wave of despair escaped her body.

An orange spark crackled through the dark, igniting the skeleton's clothing before a far larger orange projectile slammed into its side, turning the burning undead into an explosion of bone dust and leaving an almost as ragged fox in its wake.

"Hello, miss!" Miles caught the pickaxe as it tumbled from the creature's grip, briefly illuminated by the fading light of the skeleton's melting helmet. "Don't be scared. Skeletons' lack of soft tissue might make them look scary, but the decreased weight from-"

"Have you come to save me?"

"Of course! Hold on, let me get a light. I put it away so I, uh, didn't set my head on fire again."

Miles flicked a pre-burning torch from between his fingers, illuminating the earthen walls of the cave in flickering green.

"Alright, are you hurt? Let's take a look at-" Miles hesitated, stepping back from the girl with a frown. "Cosmo?"

Not quite. No leaves, for starters, save for her head, and those, when he accounted for the wavelength of the torch, were a blueish colour, not green, while the jewel embedded into her chest was a sparkling emerald.

"So you met my sister." The girl let out a mournful sigh, brushing leafen hair from her face to stare at him.

"Are you the caretaker?" Miles rubbed the back of his head. "Only-"

"I am Galaxina the Nymph." Galaxina smiled faintly. "The one you seek is above, towards the rising sun, in the folly of his making. Another victim of the fate you gifted him, Miles Prower. Have you come to kill me too?"

"I... hope not?" Miles frowned. "I came to save you."

"Save or slay, it all ends the same. Too long in the dark. It's too late. They got in. Don't sleep."

"Alright, calm down. We're going to get you out of here, okay?" Miles slipped the pickaxe away, holding up his newly empty hand as he stepped towards the far taller girl.

"You don't understand." Galaxina rested sharp fingertips against pale cheeks that grew greyer and greener as his light approached. "You don't understand."

"Help me understand." Miles held his hand out to her, wearing a gentle smile. "Come with me and we'll find your sister, okay?"

"They got _in_."

Miles yelled in surprise as a slimy black growth wormed its way free of the girl's eye socket. Galaxina lunged forward, claws outstretched and mouth wide, distended purple tongue glistening behind needle-like teeth.

Miles jerked awake, his head resting against the hard stone wall he'd settled into before exhaustion had taken him.

For the first time in weeks the crying had gone quiet.

Peeling sticky fur off tainted rock, Miles rubbed a hand against his aching head, peering about the shadowy caverns in case another monster had stumbled across his hiding place, but the area was still.

"Too… weird," he muttered, pulling his hand away to peer at a hand sticky with black, illuminated in the guttering green glow of the torch stuck against the nearby wall.

Wait.

If his torch was against the wall, what was he holding?

Miles raised up a battered piece of machinery, covered in blood and worse, deep scratches gouged into its case to spell out two words.

_Don't sleep._

Heart hammering in his chest, Miles extended a trembling hand, feeling the chaos around him before reaching deep and…

A pickaxe fell from the space between his fingers. He caught it. Carved from bone, sharpened femurs fused against a cracked ivory handle. Big enough to be human.

A harsh sob echoed off the walls.

"It's too late."

Hugging his tails, Miles glanced over his shoulders at the stained wall behind him, searching for the speaker as he wiped his cheeks with an increasingly bloodstained, _blackstained_ , hand. The sobbing sound grew louder.

"No."

Crawling beneath his skin in his brain in his heart on his tongue creeping down-

"No!"

Miles slammed the pick into the wall hard enough to send a cube of dirt tumbling from it.

The sobbing ceased, and the fox straightened to grab both torch and tool as tears continued to pour freely down his cheeks.

"I need to get out of here."

* * *

"Alright, here we are, boys."

Rouge quirked a finger out her cockpit window, to the grim shades of Windy Hill.

Sonic frowned.

It had been a lot greener this morning. Under the helicopter's spotlight even where he'd parked the Tornado was purple now.

"I can't get any closer in case there's a Zeti nearby, but I'll be over to pick you up in thirty. _Try_ to stay out of trouble without me, hm?" The white bat turned a teal eye towards an island floating in the distance. "I'm just going to pay a visit to an old friend."

The light on the copter door turned green. Shadow stood without a word, slipping away the pair of pistols he'd been checking. Sonic followed suit.

"Y'know Knuckles isn't there right now. He's down on the Lost Hex."

"I know."The white furred bat simply winked at him.

Sonic shook his head as the door whooshed open, the sound of rotors drowning out any response he might make.

Once a jewel thief, always a jewel thief. Rouge had been messing with the Master Emerald, and Knuckles, for over a year at this point.

Hopefully she wouldn't _actually_ take it this time. Right?

Shadow jumped, and Sonic followed suit, arms spread wide as he tumbled from the helicopter to the ground below.

"Ew! I forgot how much this stuff stinks!" Sonic kicked a crumpled mushroom off the bottom of his sneaker with a scowl as the copter departed, keeping a wide berth around the hex as it went.

"This…" Shadow frowned, running his hand through a tangle of thorns, a small pocket flashlight between his fingers. Their sharp points scraped against flesh that could repel bullets, leaving tiny beads of blood on his fur. "This isn't the Black Arms."

"Uh, obviously? That's a plant." Sonic pointed at the first of many floating chompers as they rose to their intrusion. " _That's_ an alien. You feeling okay?"

"They're the same _thing_." Shadow snapped, tiny streaks of crimson across his gloves where he brushed the thorns from his body. "Can't you feel it?"

"All I feel is that _smell_." Sonic wafted his hand in front of his face. "There wasn't this much of it before."

Shadow grunted, rolling his eyes as he raised a pistol. Two shots tore through the closest chomper sending it crashing to the floor, pieces bubbling to nothing.

"The chaos energy here is…" He shook his head. "Show me where the fox disappeared."

"Can do! I'll be sure to hold back so you can keep up." Sonic burst into a sprint before Shadow could retort. Tearing through a monster with nothing but pure speed he raced for the now familiar cliff face, giving the lake a wide berth in the dark.

At least these creatures weren't that strong. Not much bigger than a mobian and nowhere near as sturdy as a badnik. Even a normal human could probably beat them, so Tails would have had no problem… right?

The earth rumbled beneath him. Sonic accelerated, shifting forward just in time to evade a massive worm erupting from the earth fast enough to send its entire seven meter length soaring into the air. A solitary eye glared balefully down at him before a spray of bullets tore into it. Rotten pieces splattered across the rotting earth and Shadow pulled up alongside him, sliding fresh clips into his pistols.

"Thanks. But… You _know_ I could have taken that, right?"

"Just move. Something doesn't feel right here." Shadow accelerated, his rocket skates propelling him just- _almost_ \- as fast as Sonic himself.

"You got it."

No more worms, or chompers attacked as they scaled the cliff to a spot little different than it had been that morning, if significantly dimmer.

"This is the place." Shadow muttered to himself. He wasn't asking.

Hm. Sonic narrowed his eyes. He _could_ see chompers clustering out in the distance though, circling one another against the starlit night. He frowned.

"Hold on, isn't that-"

An explosion broke the night sky, painting the hex vibrant orange for a moment. A tiny silhouette formed against the blazing bright.

"Rouge!" Shadow straightened, pulling out his communicator. "Rouge! Respond!"

Only static buzzed on the other end of the line. Glowing red mist started seeping from the dark hedgehog's body.

"Cool it, Shadow. Look! Here she comes." Sonic pointed at a silhouetted figure swooping down towards them.

"Rouge!" Shadow raised his flashlight, flashing it on and off in a quick signal. "We need to get out of here. If they're-"

The silhouette slammed into him at full force, sending Shadow rolling uncontrollably into a large boulder, cracking it on impact.

"Iä! Iä! Gof'nn Hupadgh Shupnikkurat nafl'fhtagn!"

The roaring voice was familiar, even if the words were not. Sonic blinked in surprise as two fists smashed together in a flash of flame, illuminating Knuckles in a flash of orange. Lines of deep red criss-crossed his furless cheeks.

"Knuckles! You scared the chilli dogs out of me!" Sonic stepped back in a flash as Knuckles slammed a flaming fist into the earth at his feet, causing the entire cliffside to tremble. Floaters flew down, only to be intercepted by other floaters, a slightly different shape, maybe? Hard to tell in the dark. "What's going on with you? Where's Rouge?"

Two violet eyes snapped open to glare at him, glowing from within.

"Sssssonic."

Knuckles coughed heavily, droplets of liquid spattering to the floor, bright crimson in the light of Shadow's dropped flashlight.

"You are in his _belly_ Sonic! Iog-Sotôt _wants_ you. Just like he took _Tails_."

The echidna _stretched_ , growing a foot taller, his chest broadening and his arms bulging with muscle until the skin split open, revealing painful red flesh beneath. In the light at his feet, purple grass crumbled and did not return, crimson strands sprouting in their place from the barren soil.

"But don't worry. Mother will save us _all_."

Knuckles grinned, now an absurd mockery of the mobian form, blood spreading the red grass wherever it landed.

He crushed the flashlight beneath his foot.


	12. Chapter 12

This wasn't working.

A beefy arm batted Sonic aside once more. The hulking frame of Knuckles had weathered over a dozen impacts so far.

"I get it, Sonic." A flaming punch briefly illuminated Knuckles' grinning face. "It's scary, right?"

"What's to be scared about?" Blood from Knuckles' arm _crawled_ over his fur. Sonic spun in place to send it spattering across the clifftop. "You were mind-controlled last week!"

He leapt as Knuckles crashed fist first into the ground, shaking the entire island and sending a chunk of cliff tumbling down into the dark below. "Not as _juicy_ , sure. I appreciate you trying new things for once?"

He ran into another thorn bush, rings tumbling out of him as the tiny injuries were prevented. Darn it. He couldn't see to avoid them in the dark. Sonic dashed around, scooping up as many tumbling rings as he could before they dissipated.

Like most of his fights with the crimson echidna, this was turning into an endurance battle. And he had no idea if Knuckles could even _get_ tired now.

He charged again, but this time felt no resistance. Knuckles shimmered and warped around him, and the world flipped in on itself as the image of a pulsating brain flashed before his eyes for a brief moment. Sonic found himself standing with his back to Knuckles, his feet moved in the _opposite_ direction he told them to.

"Wh-"

"It's okay, buddy. I understand." Knuckles batted him into the air with a brutal uppercut from behind. "But it's _better_ for Mother to win."

Sonic tumbled in midair, ringless and helpless as Knuckles wound up the followup punch.

"At least we'll stay alive."

"Chaos Spear."

A burst of yellow illuminated the night, revealing a checkerboard of purple and red grass and fading rings before striking Knuckles with a blinding flash. Sonic faceplanted onto the floor where Knuckles had stood. More yellow lights flashed over his head. Knuckles let out a yell of pain as he crouched down, shielding his face with oversized arms as blast after blast slammed into him.

"Ugh…" Sonic staggered to his feet, still struggling to move the way he intended to. "Shadow…" He blinked as another volley of projectiles streaked past his head, singeing his quills before blasting into Knuckles once more. "Shadow stop! You're gonna kill him!"

"I can't control it, my inhibitor rings aren't working!" Shadow's scowl appeared beside Sonic, light glittering off the golden bands on his wrists. "There's too much energy here. We need to get away be-"

"We can't leave Knuckles!"

Struggling under the constant barrage, the echidna in question rose to his feet, the flesh of his arm cauterised by the scorching bolts.

"No! The lurker stirs! The threshold-" A chaos spear burst through his defences in a blinding spray of purple flame that ignited against his flesh. "The watchers!" He shimmered _through_ another spear before falling to the earth once more, smoke rising from his still body.

Shadow stared at Sonic, lip curled.

"I'm serious! He knows what's happened to Tails!"

"We _all_ know what happened to Tails." A white face - Rouge - stood on the opposite side of the endlessly repeating salvo of Chaos Spears. Thick lumps bulged from her fur and the exposed skin of her arms and chest.

"Rouge!" Shadow took half a step forward, approach curtailed as a blast streaked just in front of his nose.

"He is in our father's house." The bat's voice was stilted, dead of its usual sultry tone. "Our champion must be _nurtured_."

The lumps on Rouge split to reveal giant eyeballs underneath, swivelling to stare at both hedgehogs and the fallen Knuckles simultaneously.

"And the slaves of Shupnikkurat must be _undone_."

A rattling laugh sounded from behind Sonic. He managed to turn as a Zeti alighted… Zazz. The lanky Zeti's pink skin had faded to a mottled purple grey, eyes and tentacles sprouting freely from his flesh, his mouth _twisted_ ninety degrees and tongue dangling limp from the opening.

The Zeti lunged at the two hedgehogs.

Knuckles pushed himself to his hands and knees, chaos spears now firing quickly enough to form an almost solid beam of energy burning the air above him. He caught Rouge's kick in a mitt stretched to breaking point by the oversized hand within.

"We're too late!" Shadow yelled, clutching his head.

The chaos beam ceased, and the space where Shadow had first formed it ripped into shining cerulean blue, illuminating the cliff as though daylight shone from within. Air rushed into the bright void and it grew, twice as big, four times. Faster and faster. Sonic felt himself being dragged inside. Through the void he could see a vast purple landscape far below, stretching out into the distance, unable to escape its pull...

His legs started cooperating again.

"That was _too_ close." He dashed away from the rift, sending a multicoloured spray of grasses scattering out behind him into the portal.

Shadow grappled with the mutant Zeti that was trying to gnaw his face with uncharacteristic silence. At the far end of the cliff what used to be his friends traded blows of impossible strength, the earth beneath them shattering with each blow. More and more of the cliff tumbled away, chunks of stone getting dragged into the void as deadly projectiles Sonic had to avoid.

 _Nothing_ stopped those two from fighting, apparently.

"I need to close the rift!" Shadow yelled, one foot wedged into a furrow of his own making as tentacles coiled around him.

"Can do!" Sonic leapt, bouncing between hurtling boulders to slam into Zazz, spinning like a buzzsaw to sever the tentacles holding Shadow fast. The Zeti sprawled over on the ground, green oozing from its wounds. "Hey big guy. Mind if I… _cut_ in?"

Shadow rolled his eyes, slipping off his inhibitor rings and stepping behind Sonic.

"Keep them off me."

Sonic could dimly feel the thrum of chaos building up behind him as Shadow began his work. Zazz flipped lithely to his feet, eyes, at least some of them, never leaving Sonic for a moment. He gave another rattling laugh as he raced forwards once more, claws outstretched.

"Y'know, you used to be _way_ tougher before your makeover." Sonic zipped around and behind Zazz, tripping him with a toe to land in a patch of crimson thorns. "I think this purple stuff maybe isn't so good for your health?"

An ear rending wail spilled out from Zazz's misaligned lips. He launched back towards Sonic, remaining tentacles outspread.

"Your trash talk's improved though!" Sonic ducked a chunk of earth. Shadow grunted in surprise behind him. "Sorry, Shadow!"

Riiight, he was protecting the nearly indestructible Shadow, while _he_ had no rings. He wasn't as tough as any of these guys, the next hit was going to put him out of commission. He had to keep compensating for the suction as the portal grew and this tentacled zeti was doing its best to treat him like a girl in one of Knuckles' comics.

On the upside though?

He was the fastest thing alive.

Sonic ducked as Zazz lunged towards him, planting both feet on an eyeball'd stomach and heaving with all his strength.

"You're too slow!" Sonic wagged his finger as he spun back to his feet. The Zeti flew into Rouge and Knuckles, turning them into a tangled heap. Two dozen pairs of eyes glared at him.

One pair of eyes didn't. Knuckles grabbed Zazz by the leg, using him as a living club to smash Rouge into the ground before hurling him off the edge of the cliff. Hopefully in a direction there was plenty of dirt nearby.

A foot slammed upwards into Knuckles' jaw, sending the injured echidna toppling backwards to the crumbling earth. Rouge stood, one blinking arm twisted at an impossible angle- _three_ impossible angles.

"Give our regards to Mother." Rouge stamped down on Knuckles with all her might. The already damaged cliff crumbled away, taking the echidna with it. Rouge turned to face Sonic, plucking a damaged eye from its socket to squeeze over her broken arm. The flesh began to ripple-

"Chaos... _control_!"

Daylight disappeared, and so did the vacuum, making Sonic charge straight towards Rouge in its absence.

Well, may as well. He accelerated rather than braked, slamming into the bat at full concussive force.

She didn't even flinch. Glowing eyes stared down at him, _up_ at him? Ew. She'd apparently lost a _boot_ somewhere. Sonic grinned, backpedalling.

"Eheheh, don't mind m-gk!"

Rouge's "arm" coiled around his neck, lifting him easily to eye level.

"We will show you the ultimate mystery."

Rouge pulled him close, lips locking over his. _Something_ pushed apart his clenched teeth.

A glowing eye winked out in a spray of gross, gunshots caught up a moment later, more sprays of foul smelling liquid bursting into the air. Sonic dropped, coughing and retching as Shadow dragged him away from Rouge.

"Good-" Sonic regurgitated something and spat it to the floor, shuddering. "Good shooting."

"Who said I was aiming for her?" Shadow pulled Sonic roughly upright, his face illuminated by a beam of light shining from his hand. "Now let's get-"

A foot smashed into his side, a golden inhibitor ring slipped from his fingers and a dozen rings exploded from his body. Sonic snatched both from midair and dashed backwards as a purple grey tentacle sliced towards him.

"Whoa! What does it take to slow you down, lady?"

"We are the chosen. Our coming was inevitable." Rouge's silhouette loomed tall as she paced towards him, the crumbling ground left less and less room to move. Dripping blood sprouted thick bushels of thorns wherever it landed to further constrain his movements. "You hold our father's gate. It must be opened."

Sonic retched again, staring at the inhibitor ring in his hand. A sliver of that alien daylight still shone through the opening, now tinged orange. Had Shadow not been able to close it? The rings suppressed the dark hedgehog's chaos abilities, perhaps- Sonic leapt over a tentacle lunging from behind a wall of thorns- perhaps he used this to constrain it?

Using the tiny portal as a flashlight, he picked out a path through the thorns. Rouge was out of sight now, but he still knew where she was. Where the thorns were. Where the grass was. Where the taint of Shupnikkurat spread. The great revelation. The gate must-

Sonic shook his head. He had rings. He could keep away from Rouge. She just walked in a straight line towards him, he could avoid her. But he had no idea where Shadow was. Had he fallen over the edge? The two of them needed to escape to spread the- no. They needed…

Sonic dropped to his knees, vomiting thick slime over the edge of the cliff.

They needed to save Tails. Needed to _stop_ -

"Nowhere left to run, Sonic."

Sonic snapped his gaze up to thick thorns all around. Darn it. Where'd her voice come from again? He could charge through the thorns at the cost of his rings, but if he ran into her again then it was sloppy kisses time. Even worse than Amy.

His disgusted shudder was interrupted as a hand grabbed his leg, pulling him over the edge of the cliff. Knuckles' glowing red eyes greeted him, the bloodied echidna dangled from the earth by one arm.

"Mother is not _ready_ for the watcher."

 _Something_ crawled over Sonic's fur.

"We found you!" Rouge loomed above. Her tentacle missed Sonic by a nose as Knuckles threw him bodily out into space.

"Guard the ring, Sonic! The great feast must be delayed!"

Sonic's last glimpse was of the two grappling at the edge of the cliff.

He shuddered, feeling the twin poisons collide with one another inside his body, battling for dominance

Well this had all gone just _great_. He wasn't even sure how things could even _get_ worse at this point.

The dim twilight of the ring illuminated the surface of the ocean moments before he smashed into it.

Oh. That.

Sonic's final curse bubbled off to the surface as he sank into the cold dark depths like a stone.


	13. Chapter 13

Amy jerked awake, a dream of horror and loss present in her mind barely a moment before it disappeared, leaving only emotion behind.

This wasn't her bed.

Oh. Right.

Shelves filled with books, models, gadgets, logic puzzles and more lined the walls, illuminated by the dull green glow of a large twenty-four hour time display. The room of someone who _hated_ being bored.

She'd been in his room before, of course. Even hidden under the bed a few times. It had... seemed like a good idea at the time?

Amy settled back down onto a pillow that smelled of stale mints and machine grease, clutching the obnoxiously silent communicator close to her chest.

He never built a second bedroom. Never deviated from the pattern. She knew why without ever asking.

Because of Sonic.

Because he'd never come back to a place where there was a bed waiting for him.

Had Sonic been the one in her dream?

There hadn't been any contact from anyone. Not Knuckles. Not even Sonic. Definitely not Tails. Hours stuck alone, fearing the worst. Well, not quite alone. Big was sweet, and an excellent listener, but…

A metallic banging broke through her thoughts. Had that been in her dream too? Had she been sleeping through someone trying to get in?

The banging came again. Amy pushed herself out of her borrowed bed, running her hands down her quills and groping for her headband. Not that she needed either, her quills were stiff enough to stay put on their own, but the off-chance that it was Sonic at the door meant looking her best, or at least as close to her best as being woken in the middle of the night would allow. She glanced down at herself. An old white t-shirt with a heart on it and her leggings. Could be worse. She stepped into her boots, grabbing her gloves off the cluttered nightstand as she hopped out of Tails' room and into the main lab, leaving her winter jacket where it hung from the door.

The light of the broken TV illuminated the room in flickering shadows. Big's enormous torso moved with the slow and smooth rhythms of sleep, his new flail glowing softly on the floor beside the straining sofa with a light all its own.

The metal door banged again, loud, urgent, needy. Big snuffled, rolling with a creak of suffering wood and fell still once again. Amy rubbed her bare arms as she crept forward, still haunted by the ghost of a dream, dull and fearful all at once, gripping the handle and pulling the door open to peer into the chill night outside.

… Darkness. Amy shivered as snowflakes drifted into the lab, propelled by an icy wind.

She frowned, still rubbing her arms as she peered out into the dark. If there was a moon tonight then it was behind the Lost Hex right now. Even with the snow she could barely see beyond the small cone of flickering TV-light spilling out the door. Had it been her imagination? Was she still dreaming?

She was just shutting the door when she noticed the footprints. Amy crouched down, fingers resting lightly on the snow. Size ten and a half mobians... Sonic's size. Leading both towards and away from the door, out into the dark.

"S- Sonic?" Amy squinted out into the night, hands pressed tight against her pounding heart.

A pained moan spilled from the darkness in reply.

"Sonic!" She ran, snow crunching underfoot, frost nipping at her arms and cheeks, infiltrating her short fur and thin clothes in moments to send goosebumps rippling over her.

Should have brought her coat. Stupid. Didn't learn her lesson last time she was out in the cold. The t-shirt wasn't even a cute one.

No, didn't matter, if So- if _someone_ was in trouble she needed to help them. Even a wolf would suffer out in this weather, especially if they were hurt.

There, shivering hunched over in the snow, too dark to make out much. Mobian. Spikes. No clothing, so a boy... Hedgehog?

"Sonic!" Amy lunged forward, hugging her hero from behind. Cold, clammy flesh pressed against her arms, no warmer than the snow itself. A foul stench of carrion permeated the quills pressing against her face.

The hedgehog turned his head, a wordless moan slipping from rancid lips. Amy gasped in surprise as fingers gnawed down to the bone thrust over the hedgehog's shoulder, stabbing through her eyes. She fell backwards, rings tumbling into the snow, screaming as she clutched her face.

The hedgehog turned, upturned spikes silhouetted against stars, pulling the disembodied arm it had been hunched over from its mouth with the sound of tearing flesh.

Danger.

Amy flipped to her feet, snow tumbling from her shirt as she slipped her hammer into trembling fingers.

"Y- you're n-not Sonic."

She hoped.

Oh, _Hoshino,_ she hoped.

The hedgehog replied with a lunge, swinging the disembodied arm - was it _human_? - with blistering speed. Amy barely intercepted, hammer cracked against bone. She stepped back, winter boots gripping tightly on the snow.

This was pretty bad either way. Amy had pushed herself to the limit to get where she was, strong enough to take down a badnik on her own, fast enough to more or less keep pace with her heroes. She parried another brutal blow, leaving grooves in the snow as she skidded backwards, sweeping her hammer up into the charging hedgehog to send him flying into the air.

He didn't even lose any rings. Amy frowned, squinting through the darkness as she stumbled in the opposite direction, towards the light of the laboratory door, swinging gently in the wind.

Compared to abnormals like Sonic and Knuckles, she was still a baseline mobian with a hammer. Only the youngest or weakest of abnormals couldn't outmatch her, and even a baseline mobian was almost unstoppable with simple hammer strikes. A hammer blow just didn't do much more than sting unless she crushed them between her hammer and something solid, and even if the snow and earth _had_ been hard enough, that would still make her a murderer.

A moan sounded from the darkness to her left. Seconds later, from her right. Amy grimaced. He was toying with her. Keep moving. Tails' lab was sturdy enough to more or less survive Knuckles when he was in a mood, if she could-

Crunching snow and rapid footsteps. The hedgehog charged from the dark in the original direction a moment later. Amy barely managed to slip her hammer up before a bony fist - the one _not_ attached to him - smashed into her defences, sending her rolling head over tail into the wall of the lab.

"I'm getting real _sick_ of you, buster!" Amy pulled her head free of the snow and rolled upright just in time to scoop the hedgehog up into the air once more. She followed through as he fell, a home run to his head. The arm tumbled to the ground at her feet and the hedgehog soared off into the distance.

… _Really_ hope that wasn't Sonic. But he'd forgive her if it was. When the mind control or whatever wore off. Hopefully.

Amy glanced down at the arm, highlighted in the light spilling from the lab. Greenish yellow flesh long decayed, tattered where it had been… _chewed_.

Amy clutched her nose, breathing hard as she pushed away from the grisly weapon. Was it better or worse that it wasn't fresh? Did she need to go hunt him down so he didn't find his way to Station Square?

The idea of a mad mobian loose among the humans was a terrible one, after all. He hadn't been as fast as Sonic, but still easily strong enough to kill a human in moments.

Amy shivered, rubbing her hand over where her eyes had been momentarily impaled. Hopefully she wouldn't catch something. First she-

A moan sounded out from her left. Another from ahead a moment later. Amy looked up to see _two_ dark figures trudging towards her, a wolf and a human, a tattered suit falling off his shoulders.

Amy swallowed drily, stumbling sideways as she heard their approach accompanied by pounding feet charging through the snow. She was halfway through the door when the hedgehog from before leapt through the air, now empty hands outstretched.

Amy barely had a moment to register a flash of matted green fur and mottled green flesh before he was upon her, dull hedgehog teeth grinding into her shoulder as she fell backwards, head cracking against the bare floor as the hedgehog tore at her with fingers as rotten as his meal. White, unseeing, _dead_ eyes stared through her as he tried to push his way through her defences to her throat.

Apparently she'd been worried about being a murderer for no reason.

"Big!" Amy screamed, tears of pain blending with blood on her scratched cheeks. More rotting horrors poured in through the door, three, five, eight, only their own numbers slowed their mad rush to pile into the lab.

"Activate Security Protocol Prower Seven." Her lips moved on their own, words dreamy even despite the murderous dead attacking her.

" _Manual. Security Override. Confirmed!"_ Tails' sampled mechanical voice remarked cheerfully from all sides at once. " _Commencing. Purge. Prower. Seven. Zero."_

Previously hidden slats in the wall snapped open, revealing a series of metallic tubes. The deafening roar of autocannons exploded from outside the lab. A moment later the dim light within became radiant as a multicoloured array of lasers flashed through the air in a glorious prismatic spray. The beams crisscrossed through the air above her in rapid motion, starting from the ceiling and working their way down.

The tallest of the crowd of zombies - a human - crumpled as the beams hit them first, lasers reducing them to a pile of neatly cauterised cubes from the neck up without slowing. Teeth scraped Amy's chin as a second monster leapt on top of the first, a mangy yellow wolf covered in dirt and worse. Part of its face was burnt away, an old Resistance Forces uniform dangling over its desiccated body.

Well, after the war there were _plenty_ of dead bodies laying around after all. Amy groaned in pain, recalling her hammer from where it was pinned beneath her and pulling it free just in time to wedge the handle over her head. The considerably sharper, if mostly missing, teeth of the wolf cracked down on it instead of her face.

And then the wolf zombie was gone, pieces tumbling down around her. Moments later, the hedgehog's attacks ceased too as the ceiling of lasers descended, reducing it to so much smoking meat. Amy squeezed her eyes shut as the lasers reached her…

" _Phase. One. Complete. Clean up initiated. Stay out of my stuff next time, Eggman!"_ Tails' announcement voice spoke up cheerfully.

Nothing happened. The cannons outside fell silent.

Amy opened her eyes to see a bewildered Big staring about himself in blank-faced confusion to match her own. She sat up, shivering from the shock of her injuries to stare at a pair of small mechanical foxes with gaping mouths that emerged from hidden panels in the walls. They paced the floor with the sound of a whirring vacuum, consuming the remains of the things that had so recently been after her. Black smoke drifted from their ears as heat radiated from their orange flanks.

"You are one weird little guy, Tails." Amy muttered, wincing from her split face as she stared down at them in wonder. "Wait, _hey_!"

A sizeable square of her t-shirt where the zombie had been pressed against her was now conspicuously absent, its edges burnt black with heat she hadn't felt, the fur beneath completely untouched.

She was just figuring out whether to be annoyed or impressed when a monitor fell from the ceiling to break painfully against her head.

"Ow!" Amy scowled, feeling a rush of rings pouring into her from the destroyed monitor. Her body instantly recovered from its shock as wounds fused together in moments, leaving her in perfect health once more, though still missing a chunk of perfectly good shirt. A second later another monitor smashed against her head at high speed, and a fire shield blazed into life around her, as well as another around Big.

A pair of gatling guns and what appeared to be a flamethrower briefly descended from the ceiling. They performed a silent sweep of the room without shooting, then withdrew.

A deafening roar sounded from outside, along with a burst of orange light that shone through the door as though the sun had risen for a moment. Both door and wall panels slammed shut with a click. The room descended into flickering darkness once again.

" _Phase. Two. Complete! Facility… Secured. Two. Lifeforms. Remaining. Commence. Mind-control. Capture. Protocol?"_

"... catch… Froggy?"

"No!" Amy waved her hands frantically. "No capture! Big. It's… it's _fine_. Just… go back to sleep. Everything's fine."

" _...Confirmed. Sequence complete. Entering. Passive. Mode."_

There was a brief hum of machinery before the lab went quiet once more, a thud as the giant purple cat flopped over on the couch without a word, orange light of their shields combining with the flicker of the television.

Amy blinked, as wide eyed and empty faced as Big for a moment before closing her eyes with a sigh.

To think she broke into this place multiple times a week! What kind of person was Tails to have this level of security?

Shivering in her snow-soaked, blood-stained shirt, Amy rubbed the back of her head where the flame shield monitor had struck, feeling the small scar at the base of her skull she'd had as long as she could remember, now slightly swollen from the impact.

What kind of person was _she_ that she'd somehow known how to activate it?

She shook her head, pulling the still silent communicator from the air around her.

Questions like that could wait for when there weren't people in danger.


	14. Chapter 14

Dull orange light glittered slowly over the horizon, as though the dawn itself had trouble reaching the corrupt earth below. Yet even that wan glow was too much. Purple thorns and tainted trees strained away from the sun, seeking an altogether different star, unseen by the light of day.

A filthy glove broke through the tainted earth, reeking of rot and steeped in decay, fingertips torn from breaking free of their earthen tomb to reveal matted grey fur beneath. Bone stabbed upwards through the dirt, wiggling from side to side to widen the opening until a ragged figure dragged free, foul smelling soil and dust tumbling back into the hole. A groan tumbled from the figure's lips as he flinched from the light of the sun, raising two tattered tails to shield eyes too long used to the dark.

How long had it been?

Miles shouldered his bone pickaxe, aching body and soul as he gazed out across the desolate landscape.

Days? Weeks? Longer? Shivering in the dark, trying to dig through a maze of black stone too tough for his pickaxe to penetrate, fighting endless waves of nightmarish horrors.

And not sleeping.

Never sleeping. No matter his weariness, no matter his pain. He couldn't let them in. He hadn't let them in.

Unless they were already inside. Unless this was a trick. They wanted to leave and let him carry them from the dark to the world above.

Unless he was already mad, and there was no work here for them to do.

Pickaxe vanishing without a thought, Miles rubbed both hands over his head, mussing his fur, feeling the lumps on his scalp. Stimulation, overstimulation. Focus on the physical. The real. This was the surface. The desert lay behind him, away from the rising sun that blinded him. Had it always been so bright? So sad? His eyes hurt. _All_ of his eyes hurt. He was losing himself.

Miles tilted his head as a ball of acrid spit soared past his ear. His lips parted into a grin as an eye monster floated close behind, five times his size, snapping its jaws. Plenty of spitters down there too. Had he really left?

Focus on the real.

He twisted, grapnel launching from his wrist to embed itself into the spitter's central eye. Momentum carried him hurling towards its waiting jaws, wide open to accommodate him.

Miles swiped in mid air, bifurcating the monster in a spray of green gore exploding outwards. The spitter sighed as its two halves fell, fizzing against the ground as it went _home_.

Miles yanked at the fur of his cheek.

Focus on the physical.

Something had fallen from the spitter. They didn't drop food. Only the small ones did that. And they didn't spit. Food didn't spit either, he was mostly sure. Mostly sane. Mostly whole. Too whole.

Focus!

There, surrounded by chunks of flesh so far past rotten they were closer to liquid than solid. There, a tiny paper bag, half torn open, a plus symbol on its side with unreadable text. Pharmacy? A prescription? The bag gave way as he lifted it, soaked with liquid "meat" as it was. A small brown bottle bounced to the floor, rattling. Pills? Miles grabbed the bottle, holding it up to an ear and shaking it. Listening to the clatter. Driving back the whispers and the fears and the trap that was sleep.

People would think he was crazy to look at him.

Perhaps he was.

Burned, torn, cut, chewed, over and over again the dark had taken from him. And over and over the wounds never were. Was the world upside down and back to front or was it him? Wouldn't a sane man in a mad world be every bit as incomprehensible and strange to its residents? Was he the proverbial Alice in Neverland? Or was it Wendy? Hard to think. Hurt to think. Perhaps he was the white rabbit?

Rabbits?

He'd been supposed to fix that. Supposed to stop them. Too late. Not what he was doing. What was he doing?

Where _was_ he?

The girl. Not _that_ girl. The _found_ girl. Cosmo? Cosmo hated him. He…

He rattled the pill bottle while he flailed after thoughts he couldn't catch, things that made so much _sense_ before slipping away… What was the trigger for the thought that triggered the thought that triggered the- that's right. The _caretaker_.

Miles glanced up across purple fields at a squat, angular hillside. Miles stared at the sad sun peeking from above.

"Towards the rising sun."

One step, then another. Not many more steps before his tails took over, spinning behind him, sliding between grey trees, beneath oily slime, past eye monsters big and small.

No mummies. No burning green flame. No crying.

Here in the sun he was safe. No matter how blurry the world got. No matter how loud the whispers got. No matter how much his eyes hurt.

Miles bounced off a tree at full force, some surprisingly normal looking black berries tumbling from its alien boughs. He shook off the impact in a moment, hopping back to his feet. Food? He scooped them up, biting down on one without hesitation, then the rest when the bittersweet taste hit his tongue. Even if it was poison, it probably couldn't kill him before the world made him whole again.

Even if it was poison the pain would only help keep him awake.

An eye monster, not-spitter, caught up. A peeper? Didn't matter what he called them, he'd just forget anyway. He'd just kill it anyway. The biter didn't survive more than a single strike from his pickaxe. No hesitation, no thought. Just instinct. When he didn't fight he bled, so he killed. Cut, burned, crushed, whatever worked. Up here was no different from down there, just more thorns, less fire. More of the sun, trying to tell him something. Warn him. Why was he holding a bottle? Where was he?

Running. He'd been running. Follow the sun. Find the dark. He ran again, feet pounding on purple grass. Always purple grass. He ran anyway, sweeping his pickaxe through thorns, crushing the grass to bare dirt. Didn't matter if he missed some. He'd had worse. Done worse. So much worse. Barely even felt the sting of the thorns. Helped to keep him awake.

The hill ahead was blue, not purple. And a building, not a hill. Fifty feet tall. More. Sheer brick. Part of something greater. A castle? Or a wall? Keeping him out? Keeping him in? The sun shone between ramparts. The shadows at the base of the wall lurked invitingly. Calling him back. Repelling him. But he kept running. The wall kept growing before him. If there was no door inside he would leap it. If it was too high to leap he would scale it. Answers. Before it was too late, answers.

Another spitter. They never stopped. It spat. He dodged. Unthinking. Murderous he pounced as it got close, tentacles and tails wrestling with one another. He shoved both hands into its eye socket and _heaved_ , splitting it in two, laughing as he slammed back to the floor, grass and thorns breaking his fall, blood flowing freely into his fur. Where did it end?

Where did _he_ end? Where _was_ he? He was stretched so _thin_. He could _feel_ the land beneath his feet, heavy and still. He wanted to open his eyes and _see it_. Why was he resisting? What was he resisting? Halfway between light and dark, it was so _easy_ , just open-

Yellow.

_There_ he was. Miles blinked. A ray of clarity in his sleepless lightless hopeless brain. Golden petals, making its own light in the shade, sprouting from an island of green and life and purity, adrift in a sea of decay.

A flower. Taller than him, shining with light and filling him with alien joy. He drew close, staring at it, reaching grey fingers to touch its stalk, tears streaming down already stained cheeks.

One of Cosmo's flowers.

Miles dashed away a tear, leaving a black stain on his glove. He could see an oily black slime moving towards him from the way he'd come, fluttering on wings stolen from an entirely different creature. Even here, there was no rest.

How long had his fur been grey? How long had he been awake?

Reaching into hammerspace, Miles pulled a cube of dirt free, dense enough that his feet sunk into the green grass by his feet from its weight. The accumulation of all the dirt he'd dug through and collected, bound together by the madness of the world.

Bonds that could be broken.

Bonds that could be _exploited_.

Miles broke the cube into two halves, each as big as the original, laying half onto the purple grass outside the flower's green haven. Another split, over and over, the first cube never shrinking, the second different only by its weight. A dome of earth, whole and unbroken save for a tiny air vent, a barrier against the world outside, impermeable by the mundane horrors of the surface.

Then he lay, curled in that safe shell, bathed in the light of a different kind of sun as he wept silent tears, dull orange fingertips laid against that flower as he fondly remembered the last month's hellish struggle to survive.

And with his back pressed against dirt, curled against grass and swaddled with light, Miles closed his eyes.

All of them.


	15. Chapter 15

"We're _here_ to help you."

A dream.

She could tell, because she wasn't herself.

She could tell because _he_ was before her, battered and broken, limp in her grasp. She could tell by how easily she lifted him, ready to operate. Ready to restore what he had lost. Ready to prepare him for the inevitable.

"And we're here to help _me_ too."

Her lips turned upwards as she touched Miles' face, running her fingers through his fur.

She loved him after all.

Without ever meeting him, without ever leaving him, she _knew_ him, all of him. Even if she no longer remembered it, she dreamed she did. She remembered remembering.

And she remembered leaving, past older sisters who shared her face. Shared her identity. Shared her everything. But didn't share her name. _He_ gave her a name. And he was prepped for surgery. Soon he would be whole. Soon he would kill her, and save her, and change her from a shadow to a ghost. But she didn't watch. Because she hadn't. She walked down the sterile metal corridors that had her whole world for most of her lives, and peeked in, where her rival lay face down on an operating table, white bone visible beneath blades of steel, wires in the process of being removed. New, different wires being inserted.

Because she'd always loved cute things. Small things. Sweet things. And this girl was all of that and more. This girl who _mattered_ to him. This girl he'd found the resolve to be a _hero_ for.

The rival destined to escape Happy Days. Destined to leave Little Planet. Destined to be free.

While _she_ died. She had already needed to subvert her fate just to stay alive long enough to meet him one last time. Miles killed her, time and again, and she never left. Tangled time, woven into a cage as sturdy and absolute as the metal shell that was home, with no hope, no escape.

So she planted seeds. She wriggled and writhed at the confines of eternity. She watched herselves do something terrible with smiles on their faces as they planted the first seed. She watched knowing it was a dream. Knowing it was a memory. Knowing it was her fault.

She watched wishing she could forget. She only had to remember _one_ thing. Not two. Not this. Not-

"What did you _do_?"

Miles stood behind her, cloaked in time, snow white fur infused with eternity, fresh from the future, burning with cold fury and righteous judgement. The room rusted and died around her.

Because he _knew_ what she did. Of _course_ he knew.

Sept bolted upright, tiny heart hammering in her chest, tears streaming down white furred cheeks as she clutched Cream's orange dress, shivering against the larger rabbit for the second time that night.

Miles was coming to _kill_ her.

* * *

It was noon by the time Miles opened his eyes, though not necessarily the same day. The walls of his self-made prison were already painted purple as the corruption had grown into and over the dirt while he slept, the sun straining to pierce through the dark haze outside, leaving everything with a washed out, unreal quality.

But only outside. His flower, his _anchor_ twinkled merrily above him, green grass beneath him, dreams of happiness and friends had kept _them_ out with its alien joy just as assuredly as the walls of his cocoon had kept him safe from predation by the tainted natives.

Miles raised a hand - once more yellow-orange beneath the brown dirt caked into his fur - and rubbed it over his smooth scalp, sighing in relief. Back to normal, at least for now, body and mind, though the potential side effects of the psychotropic flower were as yet unknown and not something he could easily test. Nor could he risk anything happening to _this_ flower to run those tests. It was too important to have this lifeline here, this gap in the corruption, especially if the area beyond the wall was similarly tainted.

Miles yawned, trying to stretch out before feeling stiff resistance to the motion. The purple grass of the walls had grown over and around his torso while he slept, innumerable purple strands lacing through his thick fur. He frowned, putting more force into it until they snapped, fizzling away on the green grass until nothing remained. He was free once more.

Yeah, even with the flower's enforced optimism basically everything about this place was horrible. Miles shook his head, stretching out properly before carving a hole into the dirt shell to reveal the world once more.

Alright, giant wall, a spitter flying in the distance, couple of biters hunting in the woods he'd come from, and a purple fish splashing in a nearby puddle, its blood red eyes following his every movement. Creepy as usual. Miles turned, swinging his pick into the blue bricks with a grunt of exertion.

And bounced off, sending tremors up his arms and leaving not so much as a scratch on the wall. Or, somehow, his pickaxe. Mohs was probably rolling in his grave fast enough to give Sonic a run for his money.

Like the blackstone down below then, too hard to dig with bone. Still, not a problem. The wall wasn't that high, and he had plenty of rope, enough dirt to build a stairwell - or his own wall many times taller than the one before him. Worst case he could probably build a ramp and just run up the side of it with enough momentum.

Miles raised an arm, launching his grapnel from hammer space with the flick of a wrist. Unlike the pick axe, the glowing hook sank easily into the stone, hauling him up to meet it a moment later where he dangled, halfway up the wall already. He planted a cube of dirt onto the wall to serve as a foothold before launching upwards, tails spinning to carry him the rest of the distance with ease. He dropped lightly down onto the ramparts, seeing the roof extend out before him.

Not just a wall then, but part of one, a thick wall extending into the distance to the north and south while this main… keep? stood here. Possibly one of many such buildings. He'd have guessed at it being a gatehouse if not for the lack of the obvious. Whoever built the wall clearly didn't want the things on one side getting onto other. Not that he could blame them. Now he was high above the grim purple he could see the sun shining brightly without struggle, illuminating the landscape beyond. Sparkling blue ocean, rolling green hills dotted with trees, and a smoking impact crater between the two. Something that merited future investigation, to be sure.

But for now, he was on a building, and buildings, hopefully, had people. Sane people that didn't blow up rabbits. Or burn them. Or at least might be willing to _share_ their burnt rabbit. Terran Rabbit was far from his preferred cuisine, but he didn't remember when, or what, he last ate, but given his mental state recently it was probably something vile and probably a long time ago.

Wait, did he even need to eat? His stomach gnawed at him relentlessly, and he _felt_ a bit leaner, but given how long he'd been wandering underground without food the effects should have been far more pronounced, at least in theory. He'd never really been in a situation where he couldn't find food for long periods after all. Even when he'd lived alone on Kukku island there'd always been plenty of food available, one way or another.

Miles wrested his thoughts back on track. There were no entrances up here, just solid brick, and not even a single window on the walls below. He vaulted the parapets, gliding with his tails down over a lower rooftop towards the ground below, eyes drinking in the vibrant scenery that was almost as healing as the magic flower.

He could almost forget the nightmare just on the other side of the wall.

Almost.

The biters and spitters should have had no problem flying over here, and assuming the wall didn't extend underground, the eye worms and worse could easily make their way here too, but there was no sign of even a single one. Were they dependent on the environment of the corrupted areas somehow? There was even a bunny in the distance with... yep. Stick of dynamite tied to its back. Miles sighed. A fresh reminder that there was more wrong with this place than just the obvious monsters.

Still, he could always use fresh explosives. And possibly lunch, if nothing else presented itself. Miles dropped to paved ground, the same blue brick as the walls, revealing the lower roof to be part of a colonnade leading up to a comparatively tiny door into the main building.

"You took your time, Harbinger."

"Agh!" Miles leapt twice his height in the air as the voice came from by his ear, a voice filled with the confidence and depth of age with none of its frailty.

An old human, sharp face defined by deep wrinkles and adorned with a thin white beard gazed at him from the shadows of a column, his body wreathed in layers of frayed crimson cloth the same colour as his eyes. He gazed unblinking at the fox now hovering back away from him.

"A-are you the caretaker?" Miles kept a cautious distance from the human, the last time he'd had this conversation - or hadn't had it, he couldn't tell - fresh on his mind.

The man chuckled, a deep, rumbling baritone.

"Is that what she called me? I suppose that is one of my duties at this place." He grinned, arms folded beneath his cowl. "You may call me Mister... Skin, and I am but a humble messenger."

Miles nodded, rubbing the back of his head. "I was told you had… answers."

"I have nothing for you under the light of day, Harbinger. Only at night will I be able to grant you the answer you seek." His eyes sparkled at Miles' disappointed frown. "But for the truth the maid of leaves has bidden you find you need only enter the first layer of the catacombs. The past is held within the tomes."  
"Do you know which one I need?" Miles glanced at the doorway, the full scale of the structure hidden above the colonnade's roof.

"It matters not. They're _all_ about you, Harbinger."

"Why are you calling me-" Miles turned back to the old man to find himself alone once more. The sunlight streaming between the columns felt a little less warm.

"... Okay." Miles took a long breath to steady his pounding heart. Just because he was a spooky disappearing old man didn't mean he was a ghost. There were _loads_ of terrible things he could be without being a ghost.

He snorted, sweeping brick with his tails as he walked for the door. He didn't know many children his apparent age, but he doubted there were that many that comforted themselves _with_ the thought of monsters. That was life as Sonic's shadow. Eggman managed to contract a new eldritch abomination every few months after all.

He flicked his torch from hammerspace as he stepped into the dark interior, blue walls dark in the green light he bore. The light failed to stretch up to the distant ceiling, catching the outline of book filled shelves lining the walls, ornate pottery shaped like giant skulls, skeletons hanging from chains… And a surprisingly ordinary light switch. Miles flipped it to ignite a single, feeble bulb overhead, barely enough to reveal the ceiling. All brick, all unpainted save for the blue of the bricks themselves.

Miles tapped his lip with his ungloved finger. Judging from the distance from floor to ceiling relative to the overall height of the building, either there was a small second floor above this one or they'd built the roof even thicker than the walls, which were themselves eight feet thick judging by the entryway. He hadn't seen the far wall to calculate the side facing inland.

Keeping something out? Miles' thoughts turned to the crater he'd seen. Orbital bombardment? Exploding bunny cascade? Mister Skin had mentioned these were catacombs. Clearly the dead held some value to the natives if they were willing to protect them like this, even if chaining them to the wall wasn't the first thing he'd think of in terms of honoured burial.

At least they weren't mobian bones.

Miles launched, flying up to the lowest of many unsupported shelves, his torch held far back as he alighted on the sturdy bone surface. Thick tomes bound in various colours sat upon the shelf beside him, large even by human standards. He jabbed the torch into the wall alongside, reaching for the closest. It didn't matter which, after all. Hopefully they shared an alphabet.

The front page was blank, and not paper. A slick white plastic sheet that made the fur on his fingertip stand on end. Glowing lines extended out from touch, mapping out an intricate circuitboard on the plastic and after a moment the silence was broken as an audio recording began to play, in a voice that chilled Miles down to his very core.

" _Hi, my name is Miles, and I'm going to save the world today."_


	16. Chapter 16

Hi, my name's Miles, and I broke the world.

Well, according to the last thirty seven "books" I listened to, I broke a lot of worlds. Or _will_ break them? Or possibly never will because I already did, and the event never happened as a result. I dunno, I _hate_ time travel. Past selves and paradoxes everywhere. I'm not even sure where I'd find the time to break that many worlds. I'm a busy guy, y'know? I only perfected dimensional travel last year.

Anyway, I'm sure you listened to at least one of them already since you're listening to this. Or I'm just recording all this to avoid losing my mind. Probably that one. Either way I "borrowed" the second page to summarise all the details for you. Or me. I lost my mind once already since I arrived here, maybe a record will keep me on track.

Okay, well, suffice to say that what you heard is either true, or a lie crafted well enough so as not to matter. Mister Skin wasn't lying, these books _are_ all about me, and they're all pretty similar: I'm trying to save the world. The details of my life, including things I'd basically never reveal in any other circumstance, are too consistent, too accurate. Fighting the kukku, the note from my parents - though usually it's just a note with my name in the recordings. Sometimes there's extra stuff I haven't lived yet - I was pretty old in this one, but usually I'm in my early teens or younger, one time I made it as far as thirty - not that I looked it. Hah.

So, usually it's Eggman, like in this book, two of them featured a resurgence of the Kukku Empire, one came after most of the world got conquered by the Black Arms, a few… Well, doesn't matter. The common feature is that we lost, or Sonic d-... died, like he did in this book, and sooner or later I ended up in another dimension. Seems to be a different one each time, and I faced off against someone too strong to beat normally for someone as weak as me.

So I'd create fake chaos emeralds. Every time. Some of my earliest memories are of collecting all the emeralds while fighting the kukku, after all, and I've never been as creative as Eggman. Go with what works, go with what's familiar and improve on it. Iterate my way to victory against enemies and schemes I shudder to even think about dealing with. So without resources I always went with the rational, surefire way to beat the unbeatable - usually a chaos transformation, or something that uses massive amounts of chaos energy to brute force the solution.

I'm _such_ an idiot.

I don't even know if I succeed in these records. I assume so, because this page used to be a collection of various technical details and history reports talking about my original record and schematics being discovered later down the line. Generally with threats of this sort of magnitude there'd be nobody left to find anything if I completely fluffed it, but I'm never around afterwards, so good chance I didn't, or don't, make it in the end.

Rea- a, uh, friend told me that my time is twisted, that I can't change the future, because there's no "room" left for me to do it. Maybe this is why? I haven't been below the first level here - been too busy - but I can't discount the possibility of there being more books. Time loops are infinite by nature, after all.

Hold on, I'm getting off topic. I don't _think_ any of these books are my own future since they don't mention- well, important stuff. I don't really feel like airing out more of my life's greatest hits, but suffice to say between the omitted information and the fact I'm not accounting for the stuff I've learned from all these books? Yeah, not me. Or not current me. I guess theoretically it could be a lot of _past_ me…s? Wait, is plural me a thing? Ugh, this is a terrible language for talking about time travel. It's not like knowing the particulars changes what I've done anyway. Will do. _Whatever_. I should get on with this before the page runs out of storage.

Okay, so there's a pretty common theme. I arrive on a world, usually with a monster or Eggman, set up fake emerald production. A few hundred, maybe some artificial rings - most of these worlds don't have ring energy, weird right? And because of the severity of the threat I _leave the schematics_ for fake emeralds with the message before I disappear again.

Yeah, told you I was an idiot. A desperate, trusting, idiot. When the natives find my message and manufacturing facilities, of _course_ they start making them. My fake emeralds are just like the real thing, after all. Way less powerful, way less stable, but compared to a regular power source? I use them myself back in my labs, been a net contributor to most of the world's power grids for- well, anyway they're handy, and compared to the chaos energy released into the environment by the real emeralds the downsides are almost non-existent, with none of the problems of spontaneous translocation that the real emeralds have and none of the downsides of dealing with wisps.

In short? Free, clean energy that will sit around happily providing that energy _forever_ unless they overload and destabilise through excess short term consumption. There's not one case where they _didn't_ start mass producing F.C.E's - Fake Chaos Emeralds. Sometimes it's a post scarcity golden age, sometimes there's wars using F.C.E weaponry, or they clean up what remains of the threat I was dealing with first, but in every case, the number of F.C.E's just keeps growing. Ambient chaos energy increases to a point where even the native species can start using stuff like chaos control - one ended up like something straight out of a fantasy novel. But it just kept increasing, chaos saturated the entire world.

And from what I can piece together, that's when _this_ happens. Not always the same way, sometimes it's purple stuff like here and I saw back home, which is like a constant state of rot. Sometimes it's part of this massive interconnected lifeform the reports call the "crimson". In the fantasy novel world it was _both_ , with the inference that these two were just the two strongest forces, and that there are many things "outside" that can only break through if special conditions are met, or aren't strong enough to change the terrain. But when enough of the world is infected - and it does apparently _spread_ from an initial point of contamination - that's it, the barrier between dimensions cracks entirely, physics _breaks_ , and the world ends up like this.

I'm assuming that the ancients who created or discovered the Chaos Emeralds knew about this - we're no strangers to dimensional invaders back home after all - and set the emeralds up so they could never stay in the same place too long, stopping Chaos Energy from building out of control and avoiding _their_ notice. I'm assuming that all these different worlds I've ruined have finally led these things back to Earth, or that this particular world is so far gone compared to the "normal" worlds I've ruined that the boundary between dimensions is even thinner than normal. Not enough info about the current world to tell which, hopefully the care- uh, Mister Skin, will know, but plenty to show that Cosmo was right, this really is all my fault. If I didn't leave F.C.E technology behind, if I didn't go with the "rational" idea of providing the natives with the means to fight on in my place...

 _Really_ glad I'm sitting next to my happy flower right now to record this. I'm kind of a mess right now otherwise. Heh. I dunno why that's funny. I hope these things aren't addictive.

So, anyways, the available data suggests that the reverse entropy is an effect of these "outsiders". They _eat_ chaos - entropy, decay. And they _are_ chaos. Same way we _are_ carbon. The areas they have contaminated are rapidly becoming less chaotic, and spreading as they infect natural materials, while ambient chaos _increases_ as the outsiders themselves become more "present" in these native environments. The world gets digested forever by some otherworldly "god" until it fails completely and becomes completely non-entropic.

Uh, that basically means "dead". Completely. Like, life _is_ chaos, entropy and energy differentials are what allow _things_ to happen. When there's no more chaos and everything is the same, that's it, no more things, nothing new can happen, not just game over, but no more _game_.

Uhh… So yeah, I've found most of the answers Cosmo told me to find, and everything is more or less hopeless. I think that about sums it up. I've developed a pretty good understanding of technology that takes advantage of the ambient chaos and reverse entropy phenomena, and I've built a makeshift workshop up around my flower to make use of all the metal and ore I dug up while I was escaping the underground, but I... hope you understand why I won't be including any schematics this time. I've done enough damage to the multiverse for one lifetime.

Well the page looks like it's about full now so I shou


	17. Chapter 17

"Observation seventeen: Black shards. Powerful energy emission. Strong self-perpetuating reaction with glowy… Things."

Miles sighed, folding the sheet of "paper" as he stared at the result of his tinkering. Glowy things. Very scientific.

Well, if Sonic had been around he'd have called them something like concatenated phosphorescence spheres or something, which wasn't much better, but at least it would have sounded more impressive for his less technically minded friend. Mysterious glowy balls, green flame viscous enough to hold in the palm of his hand - not that he did that after the first time. Fortunately negative entropy meant even scar tissue would homogenise back into its original state over time.

Miles was the second smartest person he knew, and at least third sanest. Adapting to new technology was one of his strong points, but he just didn't have anything to work from. It was like trying to learn a new language by reading graffiti in an alleyway, when the language didn't even share the same alphabet, and the graffiti was actually a picture of a duck. Even fire, the most primitive, fundamental invention worked completely differently. It didn't consume fuel, it didn't really spread - and if it did, there needed to be a significant effort to make it _stay_ spread rather than extinguishing back to the status quo. He didn't know how his spark shooter worked, what it consumed to work, or how any of the stuff he found underground worked, the metal box with " _Don't Sleep"_ inscribed on it included. He knew it picked up things nearby, and had quickly learned which tones corresponded to various seams of metal ores, but there'd been many other signals he hadn't been able to locate or identify, trapped as he was into navigating around the impenetrable black rocks.

Or sometimes impenetrable. He'd managed to handle the parts that had been blasted apart by bombs easily enough once he had them, to the extent of converting them into bricks that, if his other experiments were any indication, had none of the hardness of the original nor their infectious nature.

Miles pinched the bridge of his nose, glancing through crudely smelted glass - crafted from the rotten sands he'd stockpiled - to gaze up at the various splodges of dirt jutting from the side of the wall at various intervals. Green vines and fronds of grass sprouted from most of them, purple from a few others.

Dirt - from deep underground - spontaneously grew fresh, untainted grass within hours of him placing it down. The taint that could jump as much as two meters of empty space to infect that pure grass, couldn't pass that infection through one of the long vines that trailed down to touch it from above.

He could understand almost nothing. He could only keep his eyes open and try to apply whatever he saw.

A gobbet of vile spit splattered across the transparent roof of his makeshift headquarters, briefly turning the crimson sky of sunset a foul green before it fizzled into nothing.

Miles ignored it, didn't leave the circle of his flower, didn't stop thinking as a spitter loomed above, crashing into the glass with its massive frame. Cracks appeared across the crystalline surface and disappeared just as quickly. No matter how many times the spitter attacked the glass it didn't break. He'd punched it himself and barely managed to make a tiny hole; there was nothing the monstrous thing could do to him in here, except possibly provoke him into leaving his sanctuary to deal with it. Not that he wanted to do that. Miles frowned, despite the constant onslaught of cheeriness, tapping his chin as he stared at the mess of materials before him, tails coiling around various items as he worked. He held the folded page to his lips with his bandaged hand, speaking softly despite the noise pollution from outside.

"Experiment forty-eight, attempt four… Sparky stick has been, uh, stuck to some shards. Not sure what was different this time, might have been the glowy things. Stick is now… Slightly less... stick-shaped and holding stable."

Second success, well, third, technically. Miles nodded, cautiously laying it alongside the clunky wooden contraption that represented his first triumph over "drunkworld physics", a green burning torch still blazing from its end. Normally he'd have defaulted to a high yield plasma cannon, some exploding rings, maybe some shield generators, but nothing worked. He was _swamped_ with resources compared to his usual adventures, but he couldn't figure out what to _do_ with them.

It would almost be worth having Robotnik here. The fat man had a preternatural aptitude for creation that bordered on the ridiculous. He'd probably have perfected one of those ridiculous sphere ships of his, a doomsday weapon, and probably some kind of bird powered infinite matter engine or something.

Miles could have done with a doomsday weapon or ten right about now. He stretched out a hand, pulling both his weird, puny inventions into hammerspace. This was why he was second best. He _iterated_ , Eggman _innovated_. Even if his nemesis _did_ build positronic neural networks like a three year old, even if he was able to replicate any of Eggman's designs once he saw them, or even improve on them, he _wasn't_ the one coming up with miracles on a monthly basis. He'd only ever pioneered _three_ miracles on his own. Fake emeralds, artificial rings, and dimensional travel. He'd been so _proud_.

And every single one of those three was responsible for his current situation.

Miles sighed as he straightened from his makeshift workbench, pulling away from the flower felt like tearing away his own limb, except in this case it was his heart, screaming at him as he left the soothing embrace of enforced happiness.

He'd had worse, but he hadn't _done_ worse. Thirty seven planets was worse than anything, worse than Eggman had ever managed, with no real guarantee that it wasn't thirty seven universes. And it was all because he refused to accept fate. But sacrificing his friends on Happy Days... losing Reason had _hurt_ more, and it had been for the exact same reason.

Because he wouldn't stop, he wouldn't give in, he wouldn't surrender. Every one of those Miles had been him, every one of those Miles had damned the world with that hubris. Surrendering now would be the worst kind of hypocrisy... Even _he_ wasn't that much of a coward.

And so he tore away, the crushing weight of guilt and depression settling on him like a shroud as he opened the glass door and emerged into the already gloomy twilight of the corruption. The spitter chittered at him from above, spraying a fresh loogie of doom at him to no avail. Miles coiled around, black shardy spark stick v4, cool name pending, flicking into his hand to swipe towards it. An eruption of blazing black exploded into the monster at high speed, igniting it with flames that crackled a deep midnight blue as they boiled the flesh from whatever its equivalent was for bones.

Miles felt that almost forgotten feeling of crushing, hollow emptiness grip him instantly, a nuanced addition to his current foul mood, but nevertheless he stepped back, watching, counting, calculating as the spitter charged at him, spat at him. How long for the flame to die out, how long for his, what, soul? Chaos reserves? Took that long to replenish? Did it burn every time?

Science was generally easiest when something was on fire.

Finally, four blasts and many minutes later the spitter's body gave out, crumbling in midair, its individual pieces burning away as the night drew in. Miles nodded, feeling nothing as he muttered notes into his palm.

Fewer blasts than the original, but less efficient, more time spent charging and a longer fight as a result. Far less powerful than just dealing with it with direct physical force as well, but he was used to that. Firearms had never achieved as much widespread appeal in the mobian territories where the population was more or less guaranteed to shrug off at least one bullet and abnormals could move fast enough to both dodge bullets and punch harder than them. Someone like Sonic could literally outspeed a bullet, Knuckles could hit hard enough that even the ground itself could be his projectiles.

But someone weak like him, facing off against stronger, more dangerous opponents for most of his life, Miles could never afford to specialise. A cannon might not hit as hard as his tails, a hammer might not have their flexibility, a bomb might not always be useable, but one way or another, _options_ were what kept him alive.

If only he'd had better ones.

Miles sighed, staring out across the ruined landscape as the long shadow of the wall finally became absolute. The sun had fallen below the horizon on the other side, night had fallen.

It was time to get some answers.

Miles darted upwards, bouncing from one grassy foothold to the next in an unbroken chain to crest the wall. Gliding easily across the top he drifted to the entryway, tails barely beginning to give out before he landed, panting as he unwound four dimensions' worth of torque. His eyes flicked from one deep shadow to the other in the dull gloom.

"You're early, Prower."

The haggard voice whispered from behind his ear. Miles wheeled around to see the old man standing as though he'd never left, red eyes glittering softly in the dark.

"You said to wait for dark." Miles frowned. There was something _different_ about the man, and different probably meant dangerous from everything else he'd encountered in this place.

"He's not here yet."

"Who isn't here, Mister Skin?" Miles narrowed his eyes.

"My name is Nigel Carter, Mister Prower, and I am your latest fool."

"...You found my work. _You_ produced the emeralds."

The old man nodded, dark-ringed eyes heavy with fatigue. "For my sins I am claimed. The Black Pharaoh, spawn of dread Azathoth. I spread his message, and I am claimed."

"Can this be stopped? Can I save my world?"

"The one who could help you is dead. They burned him and they died. The seal is already broken. He _comes_." Nigel grabbed Miles with a gloved hand, pulling him close to his face with surprising strength as he whispered, breath strong and foul and thick with terror. "You are the harbinger. You _led_ them here. They _know your scent_. You- you- you-"

The man's yellow teeth clicked together. Again, rhythmic, unnerving as his eyes widened, the shadows on his face deepening despite the glow of Miles' torch until his eyes were completely swallowed by the darkness, teeth still clicking, the sound echoing off pillars into the dark. Miles dangled from his grip, helpless if only by his own hesitance. Nigel snapped his teeth together, pushing words out through his gritted jaw.

"You must _save_ her."

The human screamed, dropping Miles to the floor as he tore jagged nails into his cheeks. Blood trickled from his forehead as bone white needles pierced through his forehead from within, parting from the middle to peel flesh from bone.

Miles hopped upright, scurrying backwards a safe distance before almost tripping over a skull jar nestled at the base of a pillar. Nigel's red cowl unfurled into long billowing strings as the needles and head alike grew without growing, like something enormous rapidly drawing closer until they dwarfed the man from when they came. Miles looked away as the screams ceased with a crunch, the smell of blood filling the night.

And the voice came. Not Nigel's, Mister Skin's, cold, dark, smugly triumphant.

"It is _now_ time to reveal the final mystery to you, Harbinger. The one mercy I can grant you in gratitude for your long service."

Miles looked back just in time to see bony limbs uncurl from around a giant grinning skull, bony fingers three times his height leaving deep gouges in the stone as they spread to fill the colonnade.

"What lies beyond the mortal veil?"

A skeletal hand slammed into him.


	18. Chapter 18

Compared to most macro-organisms, Mobians were tiny, dense, and extraordinarily sturdy. They could survive slamming into solid steel better than the steel itself could, they even could drop from orbit and walk it off - at least in a universe where concepts like "terminal velocity" existed. In short, blunt impacts were almost _harmless_ to mobians.

Which was, Miles mused as he hurtled through the air, a hole torn from hip to shoulder by a fingertip as thick as his head, not very comforting.

He slammed into the dirt, leaving a streak of crimson in his wake as he rolled to a halt across thirty meters of grass. Mister Skin's giant head roared out from the catacombs, silhouetted against the torch Miles had dropped as he - it? - extended up into the sky, skeletal arms trailing behind it seemingly unsupported by anything, the rest of its skeletal body absent.

Miles peeled himself off the dirt, heedless of the mud now smeared across his chest, the screaming pain and numbness travelling down his limp side. Had worse. Deserved worse. Didn't matter. He wasn't really living for anything anyway. Was he really much different from these monsters at this point? The harbinger, leading them from one place to the next, sacrificing endless worlds to keep his own intact.

… Should have stayed with the flower. Miles leapt the slap that should finish him to land on a wrist thicker than his torso, pouncing up to elbow, then shoulder, spinning tails first into a bony jaw hard enough to dislodge a tooth.

The skull opened its mouth, releasing a roar much like the enormous eyeball that had brought him to this place, a rumble that started in his stomach and left through his bones.

"Why do you resist, harbinger?"

Miles slapped a hand over his mouth as he spun his tails just before landing. A hand carved a shallow trench where he'd been about to drop. Mister Skin's voice _wasn't_ coming from the giant bone monster, and it didn't sound angry so much as… confused, almost sympathetic.

Perhaps from the perspective of some vast, alien intelligence this really was an act of mercy? Stop the flailing about of the stupid fox and solve all his problems. His struggle to stay alive must seem like the stubbornness of a child refusing to go to bed on time, the reason behind his resistance unfathomable.

Not that he knew it himself. Miles flicked his wrist. The Black Shardy Spark Stick v4... the blackshard appeared just long enough to hurl its solitary projectile at the grinning face, but a hand intercepted, batting aside the blazing ball. He leapt back. A palm slapped into the ground, leaving a dent in the grassy earth bigger than he was.

Why _was_ he struggling? Miles launched his grapnel into the grass ahead, using the momentum to snatch him to safety even as he sliced his tails into a bony wrist. He'd had his "answers", he knew the consequences of his stubbornness better than ever, and if there was anyone capable of salvaging his thoroughly doomed, broken world then they'd do better with him out of the picture.

Was it survival instinct? Was he so greedy to live when he'd already lived an eternity? Some masochistic desire to see his failures up close? To see Sonic's face crumple in disappointment when he learned his sidekick had killed more people than there _were_ people?

Miles leapt into the skull's jaw, only to find it spinning to meet him. Sheer pressure of impact sprayed blood from his open wound as he was hurled into the ceiling of the colonnade and bounced to the floor hard enough to leave faint cracks in the stone. He flipped to his feet, stumbling backwards as the still spinning skull barrelled into the corridor, so large as to nearly fill the space entirely.

Was it because Nigel had said to "save her"? Was he so desperate to try and become a hero he'd fight on the strength of that vague instruction?

Yes.

Miles leapt, mentally calculating as he drew his bone pickaxe. Both feet pressed against a column, spinning to impart force, and struck, point first before momentum carried his body into the skull as well, the impact driving the pick deep into the bony face and blasting him off with agonising force…

Straight through the open doorway at the far end of the colonnade, just as calculated. He dragged his feet along the floor, tails spinning to slow him down before slamming into the far wall comparatively gently. Not really a viable long term strategy. At least it wouldn't be able to fit through the door after him. He could _think_ for a moment. Miles uncorked one of his last remaining potions and swallowed grimly, shuddering as flesh started to knit across his stomach and his stomach informed him how little it appreciated the gesture.

If it was possible to save "her", whoever she was, by definition that implied people could be _saved_ , that things could be _better_. Even though he might hurt… Even though he might make everything worse, he had to keep trying for that goal. That was his selfishness, his hubris to bear until the end.

Miles jerked up in surprise, thoughts interrupted as the stone walls, thick as they were, peeled apart, warping to accommodate a bony hand without resistance. Or was it the universe itself bending?

So much for attacking from the doorway. Miles extended his arm, a bulky mechanism of wood and steel dropped into his hand, green torch flickering at the end as he dragged a lever down. A slime-coated bolt of wood and metal appeared from what he'd earmarked as his "quiverspace", already in place in the primed firing mechanism. He fired a moment later. With a twang of its string a burning bolt sliced into bone, splattering green fire across the hard surface.

Success. Shame he didn't have time to dictate some notes. The remains of the slime monsters had proved to be highly flammable and extremely sticky, letting him produce simple torches to contaminate _en masse_ with greenfire. From there incendiary bolts and a simple delivery system had been an obvious next step. Science really _was_ easier when something was on fire.

… Which… it wasn't. The green flames just petered out harmlessly across the bony surface. Turns out he'd finally discovered the exception to the list of things the stubborn fire could burn, the projectile itself barely more than a splinter. The hand sliced through the air towards him, smashing a cluster of bone jars apart. As with the jars underground, two pre-lit explosives scattered across the floor around Miles, fuses already hissing. He grimaced as the skeletal head emerged from the ceiling, its eyes pools of hollow black despite the light shining across its face, pickaxe still embedded in its cheek.

Well, this was going to suck.

Miles swept forward, scooping up one of the bombs in his tails as he slipped between bony fingers and leapt, sending his grapnel to slam into the skull's forehead. He hurtled upwards towards that bony face, slam dunking the bomb into an eye socket just as the second hand slapped through the wall and into him, cracking him against the far wall. He felt limbs - _his_ , unfortunately - crumple between solid stone and solid bone before he dropped to slam onto a bookshelf with a pained yelp. Tomes tumbled to the floor, broken pages arcing electricity through the air as the bombs exploded one by one until-

A plume of light erupted from the skull's eye, scattering shards of bone to bounce off every wall as almost the entire concussive force of the explosion was transmitted directly to it from within. The pickaxe, somehow intact, spun down to the floor. And the skull, a deep chunk missing to expose only bone and emptiness beneath, hovered before him, solitary eye glaring through him, mouth gaping open. Miles groaned. It didn't have any vital organs, no control centre, no weakness. It was just _bone_. Special bone. Even the skeletons underground burned. _It_ was fine even after being broken.

A miniature - comparatively - skull erupted from the black portal of its mouth. Miles trembled as he dragged his useless legs across the shelf and off the edge, teeth clenched against a pained scream. The skull exploded against the bricks above.

He _wasn't_ fine after being broken. Miles tugged the bandage from around his hand free to bind his shattered legs together as he flew between two grasping hands in the direction of the doorway and freedom beyond. His energy _refilled_ and he fired off the blackshard in the same moment. A bone fist blocked the blast, shards of metacarpal bone raining from above as it cracked from the impact.

If only he'd thought to go grab that stupid bunny earlier. Miles hit the floor hands first, grunting from the pain as his legs hit a moment later, thankfully less hard. He pushed off, tails whirring back to life as he slipped through the doorway, using one hand as a rudder to keep his feet from bearing the strain. His stomach couldn't handle another potion for about an hour, it was all he could do to keep the first one down when all he wanted to do was throw up and cry, and there was no guarantee his last potion would be enough to fix his legs anyway even if he somehow choked it down.

Well, no time to dwell on things he couldn't solve. Thanks to his tails he wasn't a sitting duck right now, if a little slower to accelerate than usual. The moment he cleared the roof Miles launched, twisting mid-flight to face the monster as he hovered with all the grace of a hummingbird. His bowgun appeared back in his hands and he fired as a bony hand swept out of the stone like a fish from water. The bolt's green blaze served as little more than a tracer as it burned out on his skeletal target, but that was plenty. Each shot painted the target for the one after it, and his hands moved like a blur as he fired one after another, each shot a splinter, but an injury all the same. If it was protecting its head from his attacks then that meant the attacks were dangerous. And taking out its hands and arms - or at least one of them, the number of bolts in his hammerspace was minimal by his standard - was going to improve his chances of _landing_ those attacks.

The skull warped up through the wall and roof. Odd how it stayed "together" like that with nothing in between. He'd _flown_ in between- Don't think. Keep firing. Miles veered to the side as mini-skulls - as much as _mini_ could apply, they were as big as he was - launched towards him, illuminated a sickly green by the flames of his bolts hurtling past them. One hand swung, then the other, here in open space he could easily evade, firing all the time, weaving between the skulls. Wooden shafts sprouted so thickly from the skeletal arms they looked like they were covered in fur.

Time was up. Miles dropped, grappling onto a column to speed his descent and launching a moment later, tails reset. Every movement _hurt_ , he was dizzy from blood loss, but he'd had worse. He felt himself _refill_ and swung the blackshard. The hand that blocked it shattered into a rain of bolts and bone. The giant roared. Pain? Anger? Made his legs ache either way, even from this distance. Didn't matter, proof of concept. He broke one part, he could break another. Just had to keep dodging.

Something slammed into his tails from behind, chunks of blood and flesh spraying around him. Miles yelled in surprise, spinning to face the unexpected assailant and finding nothing. Whatever it was he'd hit had apparently blended itself on his tails. Darn it. Hitting things mid-flight didn't much matter to him, but the distraction was-

Teeth clamped down on the base of a tail, tearing deep into the thick fur to the flesh beneath before his second tail smashed the mini skull away. Miles grunted in pain, spiralling uncontrollably through the air as his wounded tail fell limp.

No good. Miles relaxed his other tail to freefall past the remaining hand, firing a bolt into it before a bony fingertip tore through his ear. Ugh. At least when he'd fought one of Robotnik's giant boss machines he didn't need to watch out for random badniks coming out of nowhere.

"Why do you smile when it hurts?" Skin asked with Miles' mouth as he fell. "And why do you try when it is hopeless?"

_Was_ he smiling?

Miles slammed to the earth before he could fully form the question, bouncing down a grassy slope to collapse in a heap a short distance from the entrance to the catacombs, the impact provoking a pained scream that banished the alien voice from his lips.

At least when he'd fought Robotnik, Sonic had been there with him. This was more like when he faced the Kukku army, trying to use everything he had to stay alive, doing anything to kill the invader.

At least _those_ invaders had just come from another island. Miles rolled onto his back with a groan, watching the giant skull go into a spin as it accelerated down towards him. Slow, by his usual standards. Distressingly quick given his current state. Miles fired, thorns of metal and wood burrowing deep, splintered bone flaking off under the barrage, too slow to stop it.

His quiverspace emptied. He threw the bowgun.

It bounced off.

...Wasn't that supposed to be a thing? This is what he got for falling asleep during movies. Miles threw his arms up as the skull slammed down, reaching into his almost empty hammerspace...

The skull smashed into the floor, burrowing through dirt as easily as stone. Miles watched it from the roof of the colonnade, dangling from his grapnel, whipping blood out of his eyes with a furry thumb.

Well, that was it. He was out of ammo, and from the feeling of emptiness in his "soul" it was still a good while until his shard stick was ready again. Short of crashing himself from wall to wall with his grappling hooks to die slower, or doing the same thing far more slowly with the pile of rope that still cluttered his hammerspace, he was more or less out of tricks outside of brute force. And given how little momentum he could put behind blows with no legs and one tail, he wasn't likely to solve the problem before the problem solved him.

The skull burst back out of the ground, mouth opening to launch more hideous projectiles.

Wait. The _skull_. Miles hooked the floor, dragging him down to smash painfully into the bricks as a bony hand chopped through the columns above him without breaking them.

Where was it?

A mini skull exploded against a column, Miles grabbed the torch he'd dropped before, jamming it up into the bricks for light. Where _was_ it? He crawled forward on his hands, scraping painfully across the blue stone as he searched.

There, still sat where he'd tripped over it earlier, a solitary skull jar. He scrambled towards it, another skull exploding stone somewhere above him. He could see a vast bony chin descending through the roof, broken tooth and cracked bones testament to his stubborn attempts so far.

Now. Miles lunged forward, fist smashing into the jar. He let out a mirthless snort as a pile of rope flopped out across the floor. So much for that.

_Sonic_ would have found another bomb, just in the nick of time. Where was his _deus ex machina_? Miles slumped to the floor as the skull drew lower, staring up at the black void beneath its jaw that concealed the hollow depths within.

Miles tapped his lips, deep in thought.

Wait.

Turns out he _was_ smiling after all. Huh.

Grabbing the rope from the ground Miles launched his grapnel at the roof, right in front of where the wide open mouth of the giant emerged, its skull projectile's snapping teeth barely passing between his bloodied ears.

"Funny thing about you." Miles grinned, tossing one end of the rope into the monster's jaws. It fell straight down through the bottom and he dropped, catching the other end even as he threw his second rope through its newly descended nasal cavity. Another skull hurtled overhead, shattering against the ceiling as it tried to double back. "You don't seem to care much about physics."

The rope snapped tight as the slack ran out. Miles swung his lower body with his tail, slipping between a column into open air for a moment before looping around and inside to catch the end of the rope slipping out the back of its sinuses like a double ended booger.  
"But I bet I know a way to make physics care about you."

Movement flicked from the corner of his eye. Miles dragged his broken legs and tail up to his chest with a grunt of pain, tucking his head down as he wrapped ropes and tail around himself.

The giant hand slapped him dead on. Already broken limbs screamed from the impact as the incredible force blasted into him.

Compared to most macro-organisms, Mobians were tiny, dense, and extraordinarily sturdy. They could survive slamming into solid steel better than the steel itself could, and thanks to the ropes he'd tied onto the giant's skull, he'd let it apply that force directly into its own face too. A giant jawbone exploded sideways through the columns thanks to the pulley he'd made, while the top half of the skull, already cracked all over and now yanked in two different directions, shattered to pieces, one final roar punctuating the creature's demise as its arm collapsed into pieces, shattering at last as well.

Miles had half a moment to enjoy his victory before physics remembered _he_ existed too, and he slammed into the column, spun around it once then hurtled out into the air, soaring after the still spinning jawbone. Greenery rushing below gave way to a faintly glowing crater before finally being replaced by sand. The rope caught a palm tree, sending both Miles and the jaw coiling around it to eventually collide with an agonising crash.

"Interesting." Mister Skin's voice crept from his lips.

Miles, suspended upside down from the tangle of fronds and rope as he was, had no time to retort before the world went black.


	19. Chapter 19

As a genus Mobians, and to a lesser extent the critters that shared an evolutionary tree with them, were like nothing else on Earth. Strong, fast and intelligent for their size, and empowered by the ambient energy of the Chaos Emeralds, the Earth's abundant ring energy provided them with an absolute defence against almost anything their environment could throw at them. So overwhelming was this natural advantage that mobians rapidly ascended to the dominant spot on the planet, and managed to claw their way back to relevance time and again despite enduring multiple civilisation ending events that would have spelled the end for lesser species.

But at no point in history had the mobians or critters ever come close to extincting their native competition, and the reason for this was mainly tied into the rings that provided them with such an advantage in the first place.

In short, mobians weren't _designed_ to get hurt. Tough as they were, and evolving to make use of ring energy as they did, most mobians spent their entire lives without ever experiencing a single serious injury, and so mobian physiology traded unnecessary things like "resilience" for "speed and power" for untold generations until even the most trivial wound was life threatening, with system shock spelling the demise of a mobian that didn't quickly receive the huge amount of rings necessary to restore the damage.

And it was in this way that humans maintained an uneasy balance with their newfound competitors. While genetic abnormals had incredible speed or strength, and heroes experiencing frequent trauma like Sonic could " _train"_ their bodies to better cope with injury over long periods of time, all it took was for one hit to land on a ringless mobian and they were left disabled or dying. Eggman's strategies of employing spikes and other boobytraps to de-ring and kill attacking mobians were simply perfecting techniques that had been employed by humanity since their stone age.

Amy watched this balance crumble in a single night.

Dead mobians, victims of the war, became the perfect hunters. Trauma didn't matter, injuries didn't matter, only when their bodies were too damaged to move did they stop their charge to attack the living. Amy, sending out warnings and relaying reports and instructions across the neighbouring zones tracked the inexorable advance as reports of the risen dead expanded from the lab like a drop of water in a pond. Casualty reports, screams, surprise as hasty barricades - frequently spiked - were overrun by zombies climbing the corpses of the ones that came before.

And they just kept coming. Human and mobian zombies alike, dragging themselves from the earth, more than once appearing _behind_ fortifications to charge at the unsuspecting defenders preoccupied with the main force. Thousands were killed. Robotic defence forces, despite being mostly ignored by the dead, were eventually overwhelmed. Untold numbers of civilians were abandoned with vague instructions to stay indoors as barricades fell and the desperate defenders were pushed back.

And Amy couldn't reach _anyone_. No Sonic, no Knuckles, no Shadow. Not even Rouge, when she'd finally been desperate enough to try. The world's greatest heroes were missing. One of them had been missing for almost twenty-four hours at this point, and the world was going to the outhouse zone in their absence. She kept the communicator on almost more because she hoped to hear about one of her friends showing up and saving the day in the nick of time than for any real desire to hear the dreadful accounts of what was turning into a multi-zone rout.

Amy sighed, listening to the rumble of autocannons from outside the lab, and the rumble of Big's snores competing with it. As usual for when the going got tough, here she was, where it was safe. Hiding behind Tails even in his absence, the girl that _couldn't_ keep up. It helped to think that her warning had already saved lives, but listening to reports of people struggling and dying zones away while she could do nothing to help just reminded her of her own helplessness. She barely made it out of the lab before almost literally getting her face eaten off. Even if she made it to Station Square could she do anything an army of GUNbots and armed soldiers couldn't?

Ugh. The cards laid out on the desk in front of her suggested an emphatic "no". Amy reshuffled, shaking her head. She made a habit of trusting the cards. They'd told her she'd meet her destined love back on Little Planet, and that had led her to Sonic, and adventure, and, admittedly, a few minor unforeseen problems. Like how she'd ended up here on Earth, struggling to make ends meet. Or getting kidnapped every few months.

Or how Sonic had spent almost five years running away from her.

She sighed, laying out cards again. She wasn't really in the mood, but laying in Tails' bed and sleeping after her recent ordeal was… She shivered, rubbing a hand over her chin. Even with the rings she could still half feel the teeth scraping across her face. Fortunately these didn't seem to be the contagious movie type zombies. Though she'd heard several reports over the last few hours of dead soldiers getting up to assault their former positions, swinging guns like clubs.

Another reading. Amy rested her cheek on her hand as she gazed at it. Magician might be about Tails. He was always coming up with stuff. Upside down Wheel of Fortune… Yeah, probably Tails. She laid out the rest of the seven. Ten of cups inverse, Ten of Swords, Ten of Wands inverse, Ten of Pentacles, The Devil, The Tower… Amy peeked at the next card in the deck. The Star inverse. She sighed. All tens and then three Major Arcana all in order. Obviously she hadn't shuffled-

A beep on the comms took her attention away from the cards, an excited sergeant in Station Square was shouting that the zombies, which had been rampaging through the main shopping promenade a few minutes ago, were now in full retreat. Amy glanced up. 4:30 a.m. on the dot. Coincidence?

The cannons were silent as more reports came through. As though commanded by some unseen force, the night's relentless attack had ended across the zones simultaneously. If the zombies were retreating, they might be retreating somewhere. If she could find one, follow it… Amy left her chair, stretching out with a yawn. She grabbed her coat from Tails' bedroom - she was learning! - and headed for the door, stepping out into the night and pausing at the doorway to let her eyes get used to the pre-dawn light.

Not because she was afraid of the turrets that swivelled to face her the moment she appeared in their line of fire. Their rounded, colourful aesthetic didn't quite distract her from the gun barrels that still glowed orange from constant use. Not because she could see remains scattered across the ground like a grisly fan spreading from the door.

This was the same fox that used the same four pin deadbolt on every lab?

Amy shook her head. Eggman had raided Tails' lab exactly _once_ over the years. Never again. Even during the war, there was never any report of him even _attempting_ to capture any of them or the inventions within. Even though she frequently saw chaos emeralds inside...

Amy sighed mist into the freezing air, letting the door shut behind her as she stiffly paced forward, straining her ears for anything still moving through the snow, paying no attention to the cannons tracking her every move.

… Absolute stillness. She couldn't even make out any tracks to follow, the snow was equally broken in every direction, all moving towards the lab, and the only place she _felt_ she should go was out beyond the shore, where the Lost Hex floated high above, out of her reach, Sonic still out there fighting.

A star, bright despite the coming morning, twinkled in the sky above, distracting her from the Hex as it fell, a streak of light tumbling towards the horizon. Shooting star? Well at least that was lucky. Time to make a-

She smiled a dreamy smile.

It was time indeed.

She'd been happy to let it be. To settle in the shadows of the mind, watching Miles, just enjoying his presence.

But time, as she knew better than anyone, waited for no one, and if he wasn't here to fix it, _she_ was going to have to help him.

She spun on her heel, hurrying inside the lab before emerging once more moments later, bulky contraption weighing down the hammerspace Amy was so proficient with.

Helping fix his messes was _her_ responsibility after all.

Doodle raced out across the snow, humming a cheery little tune as she went.


	20. Chapter 20

It had been a long night.

Shadow pushed aside the snow covering the entrance of his hiding place high up the side of the slope, glaring up at the first light of dawn illuminating the twisted terrain of the Hex.

Good thing about being so high. Sunrise was nice and early up here. He'd been on the move most of the night, since Sonic had fallen, and Rouge and that oversized echidna had tumbled after him moments later when the side of the cliff had crumbled away. They'd still been fighting until they dropped out of sight.

That was when the war started.

The two factions, with the loss of their champions, had swarmed Windy Hill, body parts flying everywhere. He'd evaded them, leaping down the shattered earth to cross over to the neighbouring zone, then the next, fighting his way past a Zeti - he had no idea which one they were in the dark - probably wouldn't have been able to tell them apart anyway. They were showing the same mutations as Rouge.

He hadn't even managed to confirm the kill before reinforcements arrived. More than he could shoot, arriving faster than he could kill them. He couldn't even use Chaos Control. Not with Chaos going mad like that. In the end he'd just moved on from there, too. No point in staying. They weren't the source of this invasion. More like a symptom.

And finally he'd found his way here, to the abandoned factory Eggman had built into this frozen zone. Thanks to the Hex's odd movement, these islands both dipped down low enough to accumulate snow and ice from the stratosphere, and climbed high enough for the runoff to provide fresh water to various other islands on the Hex.

Shadow scowled, narrowing his eyes as he glanced across the snow clad slopes broken by abandoned machinery and the fluffy shapes of dozing yetis, round bundles of fur and teeth that stalked the ice, shrieking to alert the larger members of their pack to potential prey.

At least they were natives. He crawled free of the snow, brushing white off black as he straightened. The aliens had stopped following him once he moved out of their territory - or infestation, there wasn't much distinction - giving him the chance to hunker down. He could see more or less well enough by the uncontested starlight here above the clouds to deal with threats, but for navigating the unfamiliar terrain of the Hex safely he needed to see, especially without his chaos powers. Using his talents with both inhibitors had opened a rift, he didn't want to think what might happen with only one inhibitor.

He didn't much want to think about what might happen if this contamination got off the Hex to the world below either. Unless it already had and the world just hadn't noticed, taint buried beneath the snow.

Pointless to think about it. What he needed was to get somewhere with a working communicator, not think about what ifs. Should he jump for it? His jet skates could help propel him between the various islands of the Hex, but without a real aircraft or any way to call for backup he had a real chance of getting stuck up here or falling into the ocean like the others had.

Shadow grunted. Maybe he should just jump for it? Depending on the island, it wasn't _that_ far from shore, he could jet as far as he could and trust his luck and strength to be able to paddle the rest of the way…

No. He was the ultimate lifeform. He couldn't rely on something like "luck". He'd need to figure out exactly which landmass was the closest, then-

Wait. He already _knew_ which was closest.

Angel Island. Knuckles had left it floating a short distance off the "coast" of Silent Forest. If he could launch off the side of the Hex there he had a good chance of making it, and Knuckles had a comms rig he could use to signal for pick up.

The first rays of the sun broke the horizon, shading the sky a deep haze of red and staining the slopes the same. Yetis swarmed in large numbers on the slopes below him, bleating to each other as they woke for the coming day.

And maybe a search party. Shadow frowned deeper. Rouge was strong enough to swim normally, despite her mobian density, her corrupted state likely hadn't changed that. Knuckles was the same, assuming they hadn't killed one another. But Sonic… Hopefully he'd landed over an undersea bubble vent. Uekawa knew the blue hedgehog had all the luck for that sort of thing that Shadow lacked. It was to an extent he'd sometimes wondered if his doppelganger wasn't instinctively applying some low level chaos control to twist probability in his favour.

The bleating below grew agitated. Shadow stared down at a hulking humanoid, crimson and black with huge curving horns. Zavok, at least one time leader of the zeti by virtue of strength and cunning, now even larger, if disproportionate, with overlong, dragging arms that left bloody trails behind him as he moved, gouging deep furrows behind him in the ice with his claws. And his mouth stretching open to ridiculous lengths to accommodate a shrieking baby yeti with a brief crunch.

Zavok turned to stare up the slope to where Shadow stood, a gaping grin on his bloody jaws as he gave a little wave before snatching another fleeing yeti to devour. The zeti started a slow, plodding ascent towards him, an abnormal, rasping, growl carrying easily over the shrieks of the terrified yetis.

Damn it. Silent Forest was an easy crossing just at the end of the zone, and now the strongest of the zeti stood in his path? Shadow raised his pistol with a grunt.

"I don't have time for this."

Or rings, for that matter. Low on ammo too.

He fired at the ground, bullets piercing the snow before him. The sound of the gunshots reverberated across the zone.

And the snow began to shift. Shadow leapt as his footing flowed away, skates firing to land him on the top of the rumbling avalanche, skating down the mountainside with a hundred tons of snow at his feet.

Zavok's face barely had time to register surprise before the forefront of the avalanche surged over him, dragging him down and under the powdery white wave. Shadow leapt again as he approached where Zavok fell, a long clawed arm erupting from the snow beneath him to justify his caution.

No point in fighting here. Shadow accelerated past fleeing yetis, finally skating past the crest of the avalanche towards the end of the zone, the crimson stained woods zone visible in the distance.

He leapt, jets firing as one to convert his comfortable mach one land speed into a mach one air speed, the edges of the floating archipelago hurtling towards him, dizzying view down to the glittering ocean below him until he slammed down onto the dirt once more, crimson "grass" scorching beneath his skates as he raced onwards, spinning spikes first into a fleshy spider to tear straight through in an explosion of gore and bone.

No time to stop. Better to keep up his momentum and accelerate. A ripple in the water beside him. He lunged to the side, skidding across mud as a giant reptile, more like a red dragon than a crocodile, slapped its teeth down where he'd been skating. He accelerated, leaving the monster behind as he slalomed between grey trunked trees, seeing Angel Island, green and pure, in the distance.

Still close enough.

He could make it.

Shadow bent his knees, ramping off an overturned tree to soar up into the air, wind whipping through his spines as he hurtled once more out across the void…

He landed, skidding to a halt just in time to avoid slamming face first into a giant mushroom, the familiar plants of Mushroom Hill Zone all around him.

Perfect. Now all he had to do was-

A blast of energy erupted from a turret amongst the bushes, blazing across his chest. Shadow stumbled backwards with a grunt, firing his pistol in retaliation.

Another turret fired from behind, then another, crackling energy engulfing him until he finally could stand no more, collapsing to the ground, still trying to aim his pistol.

The last thing he saw before consciousness left him was a pair of black boots striding towards him, a familiar voice cackling after him into oblivion.


	21. Chapter 21

Miles woke to a world on its head.

Well, more than usual. The cry of seagulls and the chitter of a dolphin soothed him awake, mind racing to recall the events before his loss of consciousness as he gazed "up" at the beach. He was still hopelessly entangled by the rope coiled about the tree, though there was no sign of the mass of bone that had previously been smooshed painfully up against his soft tissues. Nothing had eaten him during the night, which was nice. The dolphin splashing in the shallows even looked positively friendly as it gazed up at him.

The dolphin spasmed suddenly, thrashing in the water as the surf churned blood red around it. A moment later a crab, almost as big as a mobian, tore through the dolphin, giant claws snapping in a spray of its victim's blood.

Right, now he remembered.

Everything about this world was horrible.

The crab skittered towards him, leaping with surprising force towards his spot stuck in the boughs but fell short with a clatter. Miles watched it launch itself two more times trying to reach him before scuttling away back to the water.

"They pursue you because you do not belong, Harbinger."

Miles twisted to face the familiar baritone. Nigel Carter stared up at him from atop a small outcropping of rock, except there was none of the tortured old man left.

Only Mister Skin. Gone was his tattered shawl, gone was the grey and squalor. All that remained in this man with his pristine red suit and fashionable red hat was power and certainty not quite of this world.

"I thought I killed you." Miles tested his body. Broken bones had given way to bruises, that they were even that injured after so long was a testament to how badly he had been hurt.

"Indeed?" Mister Skin just chuckled, his eyes the same blue as the ocean beyond as he pulled out a small pocket mirror and held it up towards Miles. The fox's own puzzled reflection, caked in blood and bound in rope stared back at him.

The man crushed the mirror in his hand with a smile, blood drizzling onto the sand in a rain of glass.

"How do you _feel_ now, Harbinger?"

Miles swallowed drily, snapping one of the ropes binding him. Mister Skin's smile broadened.

"So you already understand."

Miles nodded, slipping free of another rope and wrapping his tails around the trunk of the tree, not taking his eyes off the ancient thing before him.

If the world was a piece of paper, and people just pictures dancing across the page, what would they make of a dark shape that fell across their path? To them it was something vast and all encompassing, enough to change the world with its very presence.

But to the unseen artist, whose hand had crossed over the page by chance, was it anything at all? A shadow, a reflection. He could destroy a thousand of those skeletal giants and Skin wouldn't care. He existed beyond a level that Miles could even interact with.

Was the corruption the same way? Was it the simple _influence_ of Skin, or something else, that changed the world into a rotten visage of itself? Was it even _intentional_? Or just a side effect of them drawing close enough to feed?

"You needn't look so fearful, Harbinger." Skin waved a finger, a black flamed skull swept into a crab, shattering it into a pile of chitin. "I have merely come to indulge my own... curiosity, after all. My task in this place is long done."

"I'm… I'm not scared. Just cautious." Another rope. He was free now, hanging off his tails. They ached, but they'd fly.

"Indeed." Skin snorted. "Then perhaps caution is fitting? I have long seen my answer, however. You are simply _you_ , after all."

"Wha-"

"Your spoils, Harbinger." Skin pulled a sack from nowhere and tossed it to the sand at the base of the tree. "And as special advice, perhaps you should seek out the one who sent you here?"

When Miles glanced back up from the bag, Skin had already disappeared.

"I look forward to meeting you again in your native land _very_ soon, Harbinger."

Miles slapped his hands across his own mouth as he dropped from the tree, landing head first into the sand with a powdery thump.

Still alive. Skin had left. And he was still alive.

He rolled rightway up, tugging away the bandage that still bound his legs together as he glanced at the bag beside him. From here he could see a skeletal face emblazoned across the pale fabric. Rewards for an amusing performance? "Remains", as he'd been collecting from the other creatures in this place? One last, deadly trick?

Well if it was that last one, Skin had presumably had plenty of time to kill him while he dangled comatose from the tree. At least half a day, given the sun. Possibly many times that. Miles reached out, untangling the drawstring on the bag and letting its contents tumble out before him. An ornate golden bar as big as he was - and far bigger than the bag it came in - a book, a skull, and a skeletal hand.

No, wait. A _glove_. The same side as the one he'd lost, decorated in bone around a thin black material that could barely be seen in between. Miles held it aloft a moment before pulling it on, making a fist a few times as he felt the strange fabric settle comfortably over the short fur of his hand.

Fit like a- well, _glove_. He absorbed the gold into his hammerspace, prepared for a strain that never happened. Was it that light? Was hammerspace working differently here?

Strange either way. He shrugged. If he took his time here a crab would eat him. Plenty of time to experiment when he-

The skull vanished in a burst of violet flame the moment he touched it with his newly gloved hand. Miles felt it _slide_ into his hammerspace against his volition, nestling in the corners of his being like the time stone that had infused with him before.

A shadow fell over him from above. A familiar skull with floating limbs looming behind him. He launched himself to the side, whirling to face the… perfectly normal sized skull that drifted passively above him, two glittering blue stars shining from the depths of its eye sockets as it stared at him.

Expectantly?

Miles waved, and the skull, with two disembodied hands just like its predecessor, waved back, taking no particular movements as it waited before him.

The skull? Miles focused on the sensation of the thing within him, trying to exert some kind of will upon the apparition to no avail. It simply followed him as he moved away. The only time it had responded was when he'd waved… with the bone glove. Miles waved his hand again, gesturing broadly with his hand up to the tree above. The skull drifted upwards, returning a few moments later with a length of rope in hand that it dropped at his feet, bobbing in the air before him once more.

"Uh… Thanks. I guess." Miles spaced the rope with a thought. Some kind of drone and control unit? If not in the same mechanical sense then at least some mystical analogue.

So was that a manual? Miles reached down to pluck the book from the ground. He could use an extra pair of hands, even if it _was_ creepy, and the same skull motif was on the cover of the book. He tugged at it, feeling an odd resistance as he forced the stiff cover open, reading the words within.

And wished he hadn't. He lurched back, clutching his eyes with a whimper. The book tumbled to the sand, falling open easily now, its pages blank.

The words had already found a new home, after all. His lips were already sounding them out. Faster and faster, feeling cold black pressure in his head that built up to a raging crescendo as that gut wrenching _truth_ scoured him from within and he _understood_ what lurked in the angles of the letters... and forgot just as quickly as his mind adapted around the trauma like it had so many others, leaving only the dull horror of repression behind, the feeling of the _attention_ he'd just earned.

Miles swung his arm out and a blazing skull erupted from his fingers, a lesser copy of the one Skin had thrown minutes before, and he felt the familiar _emptiness_ in his soul to power it. The same mechanism behind the spark rod and the blackshard, only this time he'd inscribed that in himself, invited something cold and alien to make its home in him instead of within the covers that safely bound it.

Miles shook his head numbly, plucking the now empty book from the ground as he straightened. A dark, deep chuckle slipped from his lips as he whisked it too away to hammerspace.

It was going to have to get in the queue. Time Stones, the crystal heart, the things inside the walls, spooky skull drone… His mind was already contested territory What was one more?

Miles stood, brushing sand from his fur as he started running towards the catacombs, his new skeletal companion hurtling along behind him.

He was going to need a lot more arrows if he was going to travel back across the desert.


	22. Chapter 22

"See? What did I tell ya? Perfect landing." The Cream pretending to be Sonic rubbed her finger under her nose with a cheeky grin.

"We're missing a _wing_ , Sonic." A Cream snapped, her hands on her hips. "I should pop your dumb face right now!"

"We have the _same face,_ Knuckles."

"It's dumb because _you're_ wearing it, dumb face!"

"Will you two calm down? We made it okay, and it's not like we'll need the wing. I think it was a great landing." The Cream in a red hairband stepped between the two of them, hands raised.

"You _would_."

"Guys!"

Sept turned away from the bickering trio, rubbing the back of her neck with a sigh, feeling the hard metal bump of her interface link beneath her slender fingers. Out of the cockpit window the sun sparkled across water, glistened across snow. A strange blue and white ceiling above, no walls in sight.

They had made it, despite everything done to slow them down. But there was no sense of home here. What faded memories came to the forefront were of the loss of her sisters in this strange " _outside_ ". Guilt. Pain. Despair.

Nothing good came under this blue sky.

But it didn't matter.

She only had to remember one thing. And this was the end.

Would she disappear? She was only a Sept, after all.

Would it hurt?

She dashed an ear across her wet cheek, looking up as the one with Amy's thoughts came close, a bright smile on her face as she herded everyone towards the exit.

"Okay, girls! We don't know what to expect out there, so stay close to us, alright? Anne and Dare, you hold Wheat and Nerf? Tress and Cat, hold hands with your sisters, okay? Cream, can you hold onto Sept? And everyone stay close together, it looks real cold out there!"

A hand squeezed Sept's tight.

"It will be fine. Just stay close." Cream smiled down at her faintly. Her eyes were as dull as Sept felt, but Cream tried to be reassuring as the two of them joined the back of the crowd. As she led Sept the _wrong_ way.

This _wasn't_ what she was supposed to do, was it? Sept frowned. But this was fine. She could come back. They'd _have_ to come back anyway. Right?

"Don't sweat it, Amy." The Cream in blue grinned, already at the hatch, thumbing the controls to open them to the frigid, strange smelling air outside. "What's the worst we can run into? Eggman's _long_ gone by now. Hey, it's been two hundred years, maybe we'll get to say hi to Sil-"

A hammer smashed into her head, crashing her against the side of the door frame. Red painted metal as her body slumped to the floor, brown eyes vacant.

"Wh- wha-?" Cream barely managed to stammer before a second hammer swung in through the doorway, crushing her skull against the ceiling. A pink winter boot stepped on what was left.

"Hello again, little dreams!" Amy Rose smiled dreamily at them between blood spattered cheeks. "I missed you!"

The stunned silence broke into screaming. Creams scrambled away from this unknown horror while the Cream with Amy's mind put her hand in her open mouth, staring numbly at the thing wearing her skin.

"B-but you're me! Why are you-" Her stunned question broke off partway through as the hammer swept up into her chin without hesitation. A finger tumbled to the ground as she fell backwards, clutching her shattered jaw. _Amy_ stepped over her.

"I'm sorry, little dreams." The pink hedgehog didn't stop smiling as she spun her hammer in her fingers, smashing a sobbing Cream as she kept walking into the shuttle at a sedate pace. "But I can't have you making life hard for my darling, can I?"

She didn't need to rush. There were no other exits. No places to hide aboard a shuttle she herself had helped build. And her body had pushed itself to the limits to try and stand beside the strongest of abnormals. Nobody in that crowd of children could stop her without weapons, rings or experience.

And Sept stared unmoving, half expecting to wake from this nightmare any moment.

A hand squeezed Sept's, tight enough to hurt.

"When I let go, you need to- to run, alright, Sept?" Cream's cheeks were streaked with tears, but she stood straight on trembling legs all the same, the largest and oldest. "Just run for the door and keep running. Don't look back."

A bloody hand grabbed Amy's leg. A Cream, blood bubbling from her ruined jaw, said something unintelligible before the hammer came down one more time.

And Cream let go of Sept's hand, launching towards Amy like a meteor in that moment of distraction.

Sept ran.

Away from the exit.

"Sept! No!"

There was a sound of hammer hitting meat.

Sept didn't look back. Tears almost blinded her as she scrambled between seats, more than one pair of terrified brown eyes stared back at her from tiny faces hiding as best they knew. Hiding as they'd done so many times in play over the last month.

Sept ran until she slammed into the back wall, wedging herself in the corner behind a seat, fingers scrabbling at the tiniest of vents, feeling wires within.

Slam.

Sept's whimper echoed the brief scream of a Cream as she hunched over, pressing both hands behind her head as she curled into a ball, wishing her ears weren't so big as she tried hopelessly to blot out the sound of _her_. The ones that tried to run. The ones that tried to hide.

And all Sept could do was sit and remember as she lost all her sisters once again.

Until all that remained was the sound of soft footsteps on metal.

Dripping.

Humming.

And the humming came closer. Sept peered up between her ears to see Amy Rose standing above her, blood spattered across her clothes and face, tears flowing freely down her cheeks as she rested the bloody hammer upon her shoulder.

"Last one left, little dream." Doodle smiled through Amy's tears. "This will be all over soon."

And Sept, still pressing the wire into the back of her neck with both trembling hands, could only sit there and remember as the hammer raised high.

Because she was just a Sept.

The hammer swung down.

An orange-furred hand burst through the back wall in a shriek of metal, catching the shaft of the hammer a moment before impact. Sept felt the air pressure of the blow tickle her fur, droplets of blood sprayed across her ears. Doodle, tears still streaming down her face, blinked in surprise as the hand withdrew, fingers tearing through the thin metal plating of the wall to reveal a waterlogged fox with two tails on the other side. Glass crunched beneath bare feet as the newborn stepped free of the tiny compartment.

"...Youngest?" Doodle tilted her head, tranquil rampage momentarily forgotten.

"Hello, Doodle."

Reason gazed calmly up at the hedgehog she had loved, and sacrificed, and resented, clutching her arm where she'd strained it to stop her progenitor's killing blow. The girl that had been _her_ still crouched at her feet, wire protruding from her head, cheeks wet with tears.

"I seem... different."

 _I_ meant Doodle. _She_ was Doodle. One part of many. One part of _her_.

And Doodle was disappointed.

"Genetic material decayed over multiple generations. Compromises were necessary."

Sept looked up at her new self, their syncing memories updating in tandem. The fluff on her cheeks was shorter, her ears a little longer, the tips a little darker, missing the white fur inside to reveal pale skin beneath.

Most wouldn't notice straight away, if at all.

Of course Doodle did.

Because even when she was alive, Doodle was always Doodle. And there was only room to care about two things in Doodle's world; herself and Miles, this mechanical ghost in the machine could be no different to herself.

Reason only _used_ to be Doodle. She had loved the face in front of her for a lifetime, just as she had loved her Creams for untold generations, and had loved Miles as she waited for the end. And she had watched herselves die as she grew too old and replaced herself, changing little by little as she replaced what was lost. Rebuilt herself time and again waiting for the moment Miles would kill her once and for all.

And when her time came she'd simply planted the seeds for one last gamble, losing herself in a container where nobody thought to look, a mind where nobody thought to check. Reason never left Happy Days, but _rabbits_ did. And so she changed enough to leave with them.

The rabbits she'd loved so much. Their fur a little fluffier, their ears a little longer generation by generation. _Necessary compromises_. She'd worked with what she'd had available - her endless children and herself. Reason shook her head, the smell of murder thick in the cabin, sticky over everything. She'd forgotten so _much_ …

But she'd kept what mattered.

"You did very well, Sept. You remembered it perfectly." Reason plucked the wire from the shivering rabbit's head and her own, resting her own hand on Sept's shoulder. Was she big or small? Her mind screamed that she was both. "Why are y- _we_ here? Where is Miles?"

"Missing. We need to find him, but he couldn't be here to handle their arrival so I dealt with it instead. Are we angry?" The hedgehog bent down to touch almost nose to nose. Reason clenched her jaw. She _was_ small. And hurt. And _reeling_ from half-remembered, half-current terror.

"Why would we be?" Reason's lips turned into a smile. "He is our dream."

"Our responsibility." Doodle smiled back, green eyes trembling. "I missed me, over the years. I'm still quite cute, overall. Let's get out of here. We need to clean this mess before anyone sees."

"Can it be done? Where are his friends?"

Amy shrugged, feet splashing through puddles as she walked out of the shuttle, stopping only to peel the shoes and gloves off a rabbit Reason remembered as "Cat", tossing them to the fox absent-mindedly as she followed at a much slower pace, picking her way through the gore with Sept's hand in her own.

If Doodle didn't know, she didn't care. It was enough that they were absent, that she could be herself. Reason pulled on bloody gloves over bloody hands, scraping glass from the fur of her feet before stepping into her first shoes in centuries. Keep moving. Get out before she couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Ma...ma." A voice whispered from between two crushed seats, broken fingers twitching towards her.

Reason flinched.

"Ignore them." Doodle called back, voice as placid as if she was talking about the weather. "Without rings they won't last long, and the tea is almost ready."

Reason nodded, mutely. Don't ask, Doodle wouldn't ask. She tugged Sept more firmly after her as she stepped over the accomplices of her murder with aching sorrow, out into a world she'd never seen. Familiar coldness, strange whiteness, soon stained pink by their passage towards a clunky metal contraption sitting in the snow.

The device pinged a few moments later, lights flashing on its surface as steaming brown liquid erupted from a spout on the device's front panel at pressure high enough to dent the wall of the shuttle. Scalding brown liquid spattered off in all directions.

"Isn't it impressive?" Amy's smile turned radiant through the blood and tears. "It's only a prototype, but I'm sure he'll have it perfected in no time."

She picked up her pace to snatch the machine away into her hammerspace and kept running as the space where it had been shimmered and warped. Reason accelerated to keep pace. It was _easy_ in this body.

"Will this… fix everything?" Sept whispered, trembling from the scalding liquid that had sprayed across her face.

Doodle whirled to a halt, staring at the rabbit in silence as though astonished to find her there, but the dreamy smile soon returned to her lips.

"Of _course_ , little me. Because this world is _broken_. And the thing that makes it break faster?"

Amy's lips broke into a grin as space _tore_ where the machine had been sitting, snow and wreckage from within the shuttle rushing to fill its cavernous void.

"Chaos Emeralds."

The rift grew, crimson tentacles snapping forth to wrap around the shuttle, slipping inside. An eye no smaller than the spaceship itself bulged out of the dark rift, letting out a roar that trembled through Reason's bones.

"Don't worry, little me." Doodle smiled. "The walls are _thick_ in this place. And it's almost morning."

Reason glanced at the sun, already twinkling well above the horizon, and surreptitiously covered Sept's mouth as she kept watching, heart hammering in her chest as the monstrous eye strained at the opening…

And then it _flinched_ as though struck.

"Can you feel the sunshine today, little nightmare?" Doodle grinned as the eye recoiled and fled, dragging the shuttle with it in its retreat into the rift. Without the eye pushing against it, the portal destabilised, energy arcing to the snow in wild patterns as it began to shrink.

And behind where the eye had been, Reason saw an alien horizon, a thin band of light sparkling across the sky as the first rays of dawn spread over twisted purple hills, an impossibly quick daybreak.

 _This_ was Doodle, who had thumbed her nose at time and space to achieve her goals. Who calmly sought the impossible with a mad spark of genius that had never quite reached her vulpine selves. Reason's shiver had little to do with the cold on her wet fur.

"Miles is over there somewhere. We may need to break the wall completely to get him back." Doodle sighed with a calmness that belied her tearful state. "But for now this gets rid of all the _problems_ for him."

She swung her hammer once more, catching Sept in the side of the head. Reason felt the young rabbit's grip slip through bloody fingers. Watched her face as her broken form bounced across the ground, sucked up into the rift moments before it drew shut. A plume of smoke and disturbed snow were the only signs that anything had been there at all.

Reason whirled around, lips curled back.

But Doodle was already gone.

"Tails?!" Amy grabbed Reason in a crushing embrace, tear-stained cheeks pressing wetly against her ear. "W-wait." Amy pulled back, staring at her. "You're so _small_. You're from the past? I'm so… so…" She blinked down at her bloodstained hands. "What happened? What… what did I _do_?!"

"Don't you remember?" Reason leaned forward, wrapping her arms around the weeping hedgehog. "There was a _monster_ here."

She ran a hand over Amy's cheek, wiping away blood and water.

"And then you scared it away."

She wiped the other cheek, letting out gentle hushing noises.

"You were _very_ brave, Amy Rose. You saved me."

Reason's mouth smiled as she looked up at her murderer, her _children's_ murderer.

"Now why don't we get back to my lab and get cleaned up, and you can tell me everything that's been happening, alright?"

She loved her too much to tell her the truth, after all.


	23. Chapter 23

Miles log, entry five and a half. The first half of the page got burned so I'm starting again.

Well, anyway, I guess I'm doing science again?

Kind of. I'm currently hovering inside a meteor's impact crater talking to myself. Mining is a slow and exhausting process, made only more tiresome by the… meteor... heads? Yeah, I dunno, I'm no good with names, sue me. These things pop out from the surface of the meteoric metal whenever I'm not looking, just a big flaming face on a clump of burning rock flying straight at me. They're not quick but they're relentless. Almost like this stuff is alive and they're trying to drive me away.

I can't discount that possibility, I guess. So much of what I'm dealing with is more like renaissance era alchemy or witchcraft than any codified science.

Well, I've already been burned plenty, so I guess I've earned a little witchcraft. I suppose I'd better record what I've found out so far, and why.

First off, the meteor site. I stumbled across it on my way back from the beach. My initial discovery was that despite having been exposed to the environment for at least multiple days? It's still hot. Like, really hot. And I discovered this, naturally, by touching it.

Yeah, sounds dumb, but there's no such thing as radiation in this dimension. There's nothing that "feels" hot at a distance. Either you're fine, _or_ you're touching something and you're on fire. No middle ground. I swear by the amount of third degree burns I've had since I got here I should have way too much nerve damage to even notice at this point, but that's not how things work in here in backwards world. Mixed blessing, I guess.

Oh, that's why I'm flying, by the way. So I don't burn up while I dig.

It was while I was checking out the crater for the first time, liberating a sample for study with the stick of dynamite I picked up from the last bunny I saw when I met my first meteor head. I was scooping the metal into my hammerspace when it kind of snuck up on me. I hit it with my tails and, as you probably guessed, set myself on fire. Again. But I also found out a neat new feature of my glove. When I swung, a pair of bones shot out of my hammerspace like a bullet. I don't even have to do much more than swing at something now I've got the hang of it, and I haven't found a limit to how often I can do it either so I've been dealing with the heads at a nice safe distance since then.

Convenient as it is, and I admit I _have_ shot a few skull and crossbones off together while shouting "Arrr!", which was pretty fun, I can't help but worry how little I understand the glove _or_ Yorick - the uh, the "assistant" I found that's mass producing arrows for me at the edge of the crater. I assume they're both fragments of the skull giant, part of Mister Skin. Or at least his "shadow". Are these gifts? Gifts that could be taken away? Or is there a price that I just haven't noticed? And if there's a little of Skin's shadow that's part of me now… what does that mean about me?

...

Well, anyway, I still don't know what kind of metal this is, though honestly I've just been guessing so far anyway. Not like there's any mineralogical tests I can rely on here, and the metal I _swore_ was gold turned out to be harder than iron. What I do know is that this stuff is _different_. Energised, like the black shards and all those energy orbs I picked up, but… in a different way, I guess? Different frequencies?

Yeah, real science right there. "This rock isn't like that rock, and it glows different."

Fortunately it didn't take long to figure out that forging up a simple coil of meteorite metal and a triggering mechanism produced a simple unidirectional wave motion pulse cascade. Or, in other words, an energy beam. It consumes the same energy source as the spell does, with one important exception.

…

Sorry meteor head came out right under me, had to deal with it. They're coming a bit less frequently now that I've mined out most of the meteorite at least. Now where was I? Right, the raygun.

Yeah, so there's one shared characteristic between the meteor pistol I made, the skull spell, and blackshard stick. In all three cases the actual source of the energy is "me". Even if I don't quite understand the mechanics of that, there is definitely _something_ that depletes as I use it, and that refills from the surrounding environment. I'll call this "mojo". For the spark stick, it was very efficient, like a direct conversion between mojo and fire, but weak, at least compared to anything that's not a bunny. The shards and energy orbs I attached to that stick have their own power, which serve as a catalyst for the mojo to make a much bigger boom, while the spell I read seems to operate like a line of code, processing mojo in a specific way to output a specific effect. Maybe whoever wrote it just understands how things work in this world to make that happen? I dunno, I try not to think about it. Literally. I can _feel_ it...

Anyway _,_ then there's the pistol. At first glance it works exactly the same way, the coil focuses mojo into a tight beam, pretty efficient but not too powerful. But when you hook it up to a large source of refined meteorite? The meteorite _itself_ provides energy for the shot - and that energy never runs out.

It's a little depressing to think just how easily I could have had this when I was fighting the giant skull if I'd come here first, but hindsight is twenty-twenty. Forty-forty in my case. Heh.

As soon as I found something that actually worked, I started iterating. If one pistol coil doesn't pack much of a punch, what about two or three? If a single meteorite core doesn't output enough power to run them all, what about multiple cores at once? And if I'm going to be strapping two heavy metal cylinders to my back to power the thing, why not some gear to protect myself? It's not like I can make rings here, after all.

I should know, I tried. And I'm trying not to think about what that means for back home. I've spent a lot of time hanging out with my flower today already.

At least in some good news I can say that I've already worked through one of the big roadblocks in my design by using bones. A bit morbid, but compared to gold they're twice as hard and work to conduct whatever mojo substitute the meteorite is putting out, so I'm glad I picked them up.

Wait, I didn't just go graverobbing or anything. A bunch of skeletons attacked me when I was looking for my pickaxe in the catacombs. So yeah, I picked some up remains since they looked like the ones my glove shoots. I did say I was doing stuff more like witchcraft than science, right? Not _too_ different from scavenging robots for parts, though I wonder if I'd feel differently about using them if they were mobian bones.

… Well, I guess I already know the answer to that one.

I did see some more books down there too, but I have a prior appointment, so I'll have to give the whole "underground haunted graveyard" a miss this time. Real shame. The only reason I've held off this long is because of all the people that have turned into monsters when I talk to them. When I head out to see Cosmo I want to be ready for _anything_.

Miles out.


	24. Chapter 24

Miles wasn't ready for this.

Grains of corrupted sand shifted under his feet, the familiar stench of decay thick in his nostrils despite the bandage he'd wrapped over his nose as he stared in open mouthed disbelief.

And that wasn't the only smell he identified as he stared out at the vast body of water that had flooded the one-time desert. Brine. The desert had become a beach. He could see the hole he'd blown into the sand below, the exposed entryway to the tomb and the depths submerged below. Large purple fish drifted in and out of the opening.

Well, presumably this was just more weird bizarro physics. Where did the water come from? Rain? Why did it smell like the ocean out here? Had it somehow filled the vast subterranean cave network he'd wandered through for a month?

A dry rasping moan sounded from behind him. Miles half turned, a cannon as big as his armoured torso flicking out of his hammerspace, already pointed at the shuffling mummy ambling towards him.

"Guess water doesn't mean much to you things, huh?" He twisted a dial on the cannon to a "1" crudely fashioned from silver metal, feeling the coils clunk into place within. "Makes sense."

He squeezed the trigger, a spray of green sparks erupted from the muzzle in a nearly unbroken stream, lancing through the mummy's body like tiny needles. A crossed pair of bones slammed into the creature a moment later, tearing their way through its shredded flesh. It collapsed, pieces bubbling into non-existence before they even separated, a bright orange and white cone thudding to the sand where it had stood.

Miles turned away, flicking a hand to send Yorick to fetch the item as he crouched down over the lake, tapping a bony finger against the side of his helmet as he mused. Apart from the hole itself, the rest of the lake looked like it was only a few feet deep, the sand underneath unaffected. In normal conditions the weight of this much water would have changed the terrain drastically. As it was, it was probably lucky that this "basin" was on the shallow side, but "shallow" was still going to leave him in neck deep water for a good few miles, with a hard time building up speed if he fell in.

"Thanks, Yorrick."

Miles held out his hand for the floating skull to deposit its prize. A brightly coloured megaphone, the kind that might be used by emergency services. Bandages and megaphones. Alright. Miles slipped it away with a sigh. Just one more thing not to think on too hard.

A plume of water sprayed up into the air from a spot towards the centre of the lake. Miles pulled himself straight, leaping forwards from a standing start to soar forwards, eyes locked on the spot as he coasted through the air at a near horizontal…

There, a glitter of gold. He'd probably walked right past it in the sandstorm before. Miles dropped into the water, the last droplets of the geyser ringing loud against the large "ears" of his helmet that would hopefully serve to keep his own ears intact in future. A single golden ring perched precariously atop a small dune, now almost entirely submerged by the rising lake. Salt water dripped from the crest of his helmet onto his nose, sending a shiver down his back. More magic? Looked familiar. He rubbed his nose with a glove, frowning as he stepped up the side of the dune, salt water flowing out of his breastplate. Good thing he didn't need to worry about rust. Not that he could say for sure that the meteoric metal even oxidised.

A slow rush of air sounded from the ring, sending a small amount of water spraying from the dark interior. Miles leaned closer, listening and watching as pink walls quivered wetly inside the opening, warm air slowly blowing from its interior in short bursts before sucking air back inside. Like the desert was _breathing_ , at an impossibly slow rate…

Wait. Miles leaned closer still, sniffing at the metal orifice with a frown. Those were _teeth_ , and that smell… He'd encountered that same morning breath many times.

"Sonic?"

The walls of the hole convulsed. A spray of liquid erupted straight into Miles' face, sending him sprawling backwards as water - definitely _sea_ water - forced its way up his nose. He jolted up to the surface a moment later, coughing and spluttering, water and tears streaming down his face. A soft, deep sound was emanating from the ring, an elongated "A", an "L"... And an "S".

"Tails."

Slowed down to an unbelievable level, at a frequency almost too low to be heard as a result, but still his friend. Still his _hero_. Miles lurched forward, still coughing as he grabbed at the ring, feeling teeth bite down on his thumb as it slipped inside the opening.

"Ow! Sonic! It's-"

Wait. If Sonic was slowed down, he was sped up. Sonic probably understood him fine. With mobians the way they were, Miles would have _preferred_ something sped up and high pitched himself. Their brains were designed for high speed processing and their ears for incoming sounds influenced by the doppler effect of their own, sometimes supersonic, movement. But communicating with him was going to be difficult, especially given the amount of water he was putting through the ring.

"Sonic, it's Tails, don't speak. Click your tongue if you can hear me." Miles leaned close. Talking into Sonic's jaw was kind of gross, but sound should be conducting through to his inner ear fine.

Success, Sonic's tongue flicked across his mouth. Only took a few seconds.

"Good. I'm going to ask you some questions, I need you to click your tongue if the answer is _yes_ , okay?"

Click again. Miles took a shaky breath.

"Are you still on Earth?"

Click.

"Underwater?"

Click.

Great, fell in the ocean, probably off the Lost Hex while looking for him. Miles pinched the bridge of his nose. His selfish carelessness had put Sonic in danger.

"This… It's Shadow's inhibitor ring, right?"

Click.

Miles nodded, reaching down to touch the outside of the ring. Presumably Shadow had done _something_ to set up a stable portal. He didn't need to know what right now, Sonic needed him first.  
"Okay, Sonic. I'm going to move the ring on my end, it should help you breathe. If anything goes wrong I _will_ put it back in a few seconds, alright?"

… Click.

That momentary hesitation _hurt_. He probably deserved it though. Miles gripped the ring firmly in place, eyes locked on its interior, water lapping at his hands. If its physical location in one dimension altered its location in the other then as soon as he moved it he was going to have to handle another geyser blast to the face, and he'd need to get it back to exactly the same spot as before to stop it.

Slowly, he lifted the ring, holding it before him.

"Move all done... You should floss more."

A puff of air that might have been a snort wafted from the portal. Miles cracked a half smile despite himself.

"Okay, all good?"

Click.

Miles looked down at the water, currently lapping at his waist even from his new perch atop the dune. For this much to have come through he'd have needed to break contact with the ring multiple times for some reason…

Ah.

"Is it dark down there?"

Click.

 _Penders_. He'd been using it for light. He must have been down there for… hours, as a conservative estimate, given the time dilation.

"Alright, Sonic. I'm… I'm going to give you something to help, just- _Agh_!" Needlelike teeth clamped down on his leg, slipping above the thickly armoured boots that stretched up to his knees to slice deep into his thigh. Miles fell back screaming as the weight of the fish tipped him off balance. A second set of jaws scraped across the thick bone bracer protecting his arm.

Miles lashed his hand out, a skull and crossbones burst into the fish tearing into his leg, knocking it free with a chunk of flesh still gripped between its jaws. Salt water burning at his wound, Miles twisted around, tail wrapping around the second fish to yank it out of the water, slamming it repeatedly against the sand before launching it at the first.

He surfaced, coughing and spluttering for the second time in as many minutes as he flipped his pickaxe first into a hand and then into a charging fish, sinking it deep into the ground to pin it in place. It thrashed and then fell still.

Miles panted, blood from his wound seeping into tainted purple water as he scanned the surface for the second fish…

There. The cannon slipped into his hands, sparks of green pulverising it before the projectile of bone could even touch it. He twisted to and fro, searching for any fresh threat…

Nothing. Even the skies were safe. He could- oh no.

Miles threw himself into the water once more, feeling around in the blood-stained water until he felt the outline of the ring beneath his fingers. He pushed up off the bottom, ring first, breaking free of the surface to hear Sonic's glacial cry of "Tails!" coming to an end.

"I'm sorry!" Miles panted, limping in the direction of the giant tree as he moved, eyes straining for any further threats. "I dropped the ring. You okay?"

… Click.

Again that painful hesitation. Miles winced, pressing his free hand against his wound as he moved.

"Okay, Sonic. Can you get to shore with a light?"

… Silence.

He'd fallen into deep water, no idea which way was shore, and no way of finding out in the pitch darkness of the depths. It was a miracle he'd survived this long. Miles gritted his teeth, racking his brain as he made his own way to shore. He could feed a greenflame torch through, but with no way of knowing which way to run, Sonic would be in exactly the same situation when it burned out.

"… Right, Sonic. I need you listen. You're going to need to take the ring away from your mouth. When you do, I'll put my hand through the ring and you… You just need to grab my arm, alright? It's going to be okay."

… Silence. The slow rush of air inwards.  
"Sonic-"

With that quick inhalation that lasted half a minute to Miles, the ring's interior erupted into water once again, slamming into Miles' chest. He gasped, fighting the current as he pushed his free hand inward, wound momentarily forgotten.

He thrust forward, as much pulling the ring onto his hand as pushing his hand against the current, spinning his tails in the water to keep him upright. His fingers slipped through the gap easily - it accommodated Shadow's much sturdier arm, after all - and his bracer slipped into hammerspace to accommodate the rest. The moment his arm passed through all feeling was replaced by a numb _ache_ as his limb was subjected to a blood pressure, and heart rate, dozens of times more than normal, his body split along different dimensions, different times. The only mercy was the inability of his nerves to fully report the damage as blood vessels swelled and ruptured from the force.

Miles screamed, wedging his arm up to the shoulder, but he'd had worse. Deserved worse. Would he even be able to tell when Sonic grabbed him? Should he try and move so there was light for him to see? If he didn't grab him he was going to have to-

There, finally, the dull sensation of fingers tightening around bruised flesh, brushing through the unarmoured fur, wrapping tight around…

Wait, his glove was made of _bones_. Sonic would-

No, focus. Running out of time, couldn't afford not to. Miles squeezed his eyes shut, still walking, focusing on his hammerspace. On the things he'd collected, including one thing most important to a mobian dealing with water.

Wood.

He'd used a lot of it to make arrows, but not all, and what remained he drew, ever so slowly, out of hammerspace around his hand, feeling the painful tug as enough wood to more than compensate for Sonic's density dragged him into the ring, pulled him forward even though there was no momentum in the universe his feet were walking through.

If one set of physics held firm, he was being pulled "up" like a cork from a bottle. Worst case, this stunt was going to lose him an arm from the force.

No, with bizarro world he'd just grow it back, that was fine. But on the other hand, if this alien lumber didn't even float then it might be simple _gravity_ pulling him, and Sonic, down ever deeper.

And he had no way of way of knowing which. No way with the two of them working blind to do anything better. No way of knowing if Sonic was even in water shallow enough to reach the surface in the thirty seconds that he could hold his breath. Was his arm still there? He still felt a tug on his shoulder. Was he imagining it? Was that a hand squeezing him? His arm's neurological last gasp against the pressures it faced?

No. He just needed to have faith. Sonic was a _hero_ , he wasn't dumb. He knew his limits. If he needed to, he'd shove Miles back, at least enough for a bubble to breathe. He might have let him down before, he might not be _needed_ , but he could still be of some use.

The minutes stretched on, and he kept walking. Slow and steady, keep the heart rate down, keep an eye out for enemies. Relax, without relaxing, hurry slowly, neck deep in water, focus on the shore, to the giant tree. Staying still was the best way to get attacked again. There was a hill, right? Didn't it used to be green? Purple now, keep walking towards it anyway. Eye monster? Hadn't seen him yet, keep walking. Don't stop, don't rush. Getting dizzy. Getting shallow, easier to keep his shoulder above the water, harder to keep from falling over. He kept walking, grey sand giving way to purple grass, black stone instead of rotten grains.

The strain on his shoulder stopped. No, _inverted_ , his arm was being _pushed_.

Miles' heart skipped a beat. It had been so gradual he hadn't noticed it. How long had it been? He grabbed the ring once more, heaving to pull away, to let air through. Was he too late? Too slow? Had he not noticed Sonic trying to catch a breath?

Liquid poured through the ring, but red not clear. He felt nothing as he pulled his arm back, drenched and limp where muscle and skin had ruptured, cracking as he forced fingers free of the wooden cube he'd built around them.

Force from the other side of the ring pushed his arm the rest of the way, it flopped to his side. He didn't care, stomach fluttered as he pressed the bloodstained ring close to his face, peering through at a slowly panning ocean vista. White gloved fingertips at the edge of his view. Miles let out a shuddering sigh.

It floated. It reached the surface. Sonic was- The wrong colour?

Streaks of red criss-crossed his bare skin, purple spines jutted between blue. Even his lips were bruised and swollen, possibly from crossing the time boundary in the ring. But he was _alive_. Questions bubbled through his mind, but Sonic, with lightning speed that translated to painful slowness, thrust his own hand through the ring, laying for a few moments on Miles' armoured head before he pulled back through, shaking his hand with a wince even as his damaged lips broke into a grin, forming words Miles knew long before they reached him.

"I'm coming for you, little buddy. I promise."

"I know."

Miles' lips mirrored his hero's grin, pain and despair momentarily held at bay by faith.

And then he kept on walking.


	25. Chapter 25

The giant tree was, if not dying, then certainly _suffering_. Purple plants spiralled up against its trunk, sharp thorns biting into the bark. Miles swept through them with his pick, hard enough to tear the rotted stems, soft enough to spare the wood beneath. The corruption had spread this far over the last few weeks?

The leaves were still green at least. Was that the purpose of the flowers at its roots? Purification? To protect this tree in particular? Or was it just a fluke? There was presumably no special reason behind the flower near the catacombs after all.

Once he finished circling its massive girth Miles glanced at the vista he'd viewed on his first morning, the avenue of trees, paved stone leading the way to those grey buildings. The tree, with its thick roots that spread out in all directions and the flowers that lay both sides of its entryway had so far blocked the taint from this area, if only for the moment. Even so, he could _feel_ the aura of dull despair. Even the sun was muted through a grim haze.

How much green was left on this world? Would the corruption eventually engulf this tree completely and spread here as well? Would even the great wall one day fail?

The prospect was depressing.

Still, he wasn't going to save even _one_ world by moping about it. Miles turned his attention to the door in the side of the tree, flanked by those twin flowers that shone brightly despite the muted sun.

Hopefully she'd give him enough time to get into the open before she turned into a giant flower monster or whatever.

"Stay out of trouble, Yorrick." Miles waved a hand to direct the skull towards the foliage above the door. It wordlessly drifted upwards, portal ring held between its bony fingers like a macabre cameraman, always focusing the ring towards him.

In the tiny portal, Miles could see the crude "raft" he'd built zooming towards a distant shore. Even at a fraction of the speed, it was still going to cover the distance in record time. If Sonic somehow fell into the water again, with knowledge of which direction the coast was he could just run the rest. It soothed a dull ache in Miles' chest, even as a new, fresh worry grew in its place.

He was alone. Absolutely and terribly so.

He'd been hoping, even against all reason, that Sonic would somehow come here. The hedgehog's unyielding heroism was a beacon in the dark, and he _needed_ that light. It kept him… safe. Helped him focus on what was _important_. If Sonic were here he would _succeed_ , because Miles wouldn't let him fail, and Sonic wouldn't let Miles lose himself, simply by being there, simply by being _him_.

But based on empirical data, there was at least a fifty to one time difference between the two planes. It was no Twilight Cage, the dimensional prison the last of the Echidna had been imprisoned in, along with various other species. The Cage had a one to four thousand time difference, but as far as anything mattered in the short term, it may as well be the same. It would take Sonic only a few minutes to reach his lab. That would be _hours_ here. And then what? Was Shadow already there waiting? Were they communicating with G.U.N's science team? Did he manage to get _Robotnik_ to help?

It was sad that he was half hoping for Eggman to be involved. The fat man could sometimes be persuaded when the world was at stake - assuming it wasn't his fault, and with the caveat that he would predictably betray them at the end. As it was, the reason Shadow had stabilised the portal at this size was either because that was the largest they could safely manifest it, or more likely because they'd opened it by mistake, just as Zeena had, and he couldn't _close_ it all the way. Shadow was a genius in his own right - if comparatively modest by Miles or Eggman's standards, but solutions took time, testing, and resources. _Miles_ had all the time in the world, but no resources, and no understanding of local physics to even know if a portal was _possible_ from within. If it was, that begged the question of why the natives hadn't left, while any testing _they_ did was going to take at least another month for him, maybe more.

And given how quickly the corruption had spread, a month could easily spell the end of this place. Cosmo had said this world was almost lost, and when it was that the cycle would begin again… He _couldn't_ afford to wait for Sonic. He needed to grab any and every potential solution in the interim.

With a sigh to steady his nerves, Miles opened the door, slipping a torch into his hand as he stepped onto the wonky staircase into the depths.

It smelled like stale flowers. His footsteps echoed dully off the living wood, the darkness below swallowing his light in its depths. Miles kept walking, confident now he could see, now he was more familiar with this bizarre place and its rules, such as they were. Even the human size steps were easier to climb, if only a little. How long had she been here that her flowery scent was so ingrained in this place? Did she share the abilities of the golden flowers outside? He had so many questions, but would she even answer them? She hated him after all, for what he'd done. Or would do. Her only action towards him had been to educate him as to his folly, assuming she had any interest in helping him desperately flail at some kind of solution felt like foolishness.

But Skin had told him to come. Was his hesitation prudence or simple cowardice? He never reached the answer, his hand rapped on the door of Cosmo's room with a loud confidence that he didn't feel.

…

Nothing.

Miles knocked again, louder. Was she asleep? Worse? Had she fled this place and the taint surely just a few short metres through these living walls? Or succumbed to it, like her sister? Was she even now laying in ambush, waiting for him to foolishly venture into her lair?

He turned the handle, revealing candlelight beyond. Of course the candle was still lit. Why not? A candle would last a lifetime here, endlessly rejuvenating itself. But its flickering light revealed little more than emptiness. A simple bench and chair, an odd contraption that looked like a harp strung with leaves... no sign of Cosmo. Was this just some kind of office? She stayed in it the night he arrived, didn't she? Miles glanced behind himself at the still open door to the outside before slowly venturing in, torch vanishing into his hammerspace. A good hero was identified by a shameless disregard of others' personal property and privacy, after all, and he was _almost_ a hero. At least by some metrics. It was basically the reason he'd met Sonic, so… tried and tested?

There, nestled behind the bench was the chest she mentioned, overgrown with leaves that seemed to be having no trouble in the dark. Maybe she had a futon in there? Some food? Something even a _little_ normalising beyond this austere room in the dark?

… Nope. Three sticks and a book. Weird sticks too. Miles raised an eyebrow as he lifted the strangest of the three, a small bird perched on its end in rigid immobility.

Was it stuffed? It _seemed_ alive. Like at any moment it might take flight. Miles shook the stick to try and dislodge it, but the bird remained stubbornly inert. Miles returned it to the chest with a frown. There was something _off_ about the thing. Hopefully Cosmo didn't have a taxidermy hobby.

Hopefully Cosmo didn't get unreasonably angry for people touching her taxidermy hobby.

In comparison to the trio of weird, potentially physics defying sticks, the book was positively ordinary in its appearance. Miles peeked under the plain front cover with one squinted eye…

Okay, not a soul invading death book. He hopped up onto the human-sized chair, placing the book on the bench next to the candle as he shifted to get comfortable. Not any alphabet he was familiar with either. Three symbols - eye, skull, and… snake(?) adorned the front page. Each had a brief line of runes written beside them. A few lines after that and then those three symbols again, repeated line after line. On every single line, one or more of the symbols was struck out, with sometimes the entire line scored through as a whole instead, with a single rune written beside the symbols each time. Miles turned the page, exactly the same all the way down. Again. And again. He kept flipping through...

There. A few pages on, after how many repetitions he hadn't bothered to count, another blurb of runic text, four more symbols, each with their own line of runes. _Two_ eyes, another snake facing the opposite way, and a spiky skull, along with a square with a fanged mouth in its centre.

Were the eye and skull related to those things he'd faced? Mister Skin and… Whatever unworldly horror was responsible for that giant eye? Was this a record of… of worlds?

Miles suddenly wished he'd thought to count the lines. If these _did_ describe worlds were they all… him? He flipped through pages. Seven symbols became ten, along with a simple splash of colour, either red or purple, added next to each line. Twelve, then thirteen symbols, more and more lines were simply struck through now. Lost? Won? Fourteen symbols. Each little description might contain helpful advice on what lurked out there, but he had no way of deciphering it. No, all that mattered now was how many _pages_ there were. How, if each of these symbols indicated an "outsider" like Mister Skin, more and more were being attracted over time, the situation growing more bleak for the worlds' inhabitants.

Until he reached the last page. A purple row. Eighteen symbols, with the snake and the mouth-square crossed through, and the entire line struck out with the success/failure rune written alongside. A lengthy paragraph was scrawled below in a far untidier fashion than the previous passages.

Miles didn't pay much attention, staring instead at the book itself. Hundreds pages, dozens of lines per page. Thousands of worlds? How many lost? Was that the future that awaited him? He'd spent centuries on Happy Days, was there any doubt he could live that long?

Or had already?

Miles wrapped his arms around a tail as he stared blankly at the page, dimly aware that his lip was hurting until he realised he was biting into it.

What did he know about himself, really? He lived on Cocoa Island alone, he had a note from his parents… But from when? Where had he been _before_ Cocoa? Why did he have not one single memory of his mother's face? Why was his time so twisted? Why did not one single entry remember Happy Days, or the time stone?

Because they hadn't happened yet. Because this was just one more of a series of endless worlds he'd _already_ broken, and somehow forgotten.

"You should be cautious about reading books you find here, Miles Prower." A cold voice came from the doorway. "Some books contain things you _don't_ want to let in."

Miles twisted on the chair, dashing his glove rapidly across his eyes to see Cosmo, her expression hidden in shadow where she stood at the edge of the candlelight, arms folded.

"Ah, sorry, I, uh, guess I was being nosey." Miles rubbed the back of his helmet, putting on a sheepish grin. "I don't actually know what it says, but I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

"I have read enough of your life," Cosmo shrugged, her voice still cool. "I care little if you read mine. I see you have returned intact and yourself? I suppose I should not be surprised that you of all people might be your world's chosen. Perhaps you might find some redemption after all?"

"... How?" Miles all but whispered.

"Soon the walls will tear beneath the weight of Iog-Sotôt's dark influence and the cycle will begin again on your world, whether a victor has been found or not." Cosmo stepped into the light. Streaks of purple visible among her leafy hair, dark rings banded her eyes. "But with you here, with your guide, you might prevent-" She jerked to a halt, lips curling as she looked him up and down where he sat. "Wait, what how can this be?"

She crossed the distance in a moment, hands clacking against the shoulders of his armour as she glared down at him.

"I… uh, is this about your sister? She-"

"My sister has been dead for five hundred years, Miles Prower. What did you _do?_ " Ignoring his stammering protests she leaned down until her fair, if strained, features were bare inches from his own, lips almost touching his nose as she muttered to herself, scent of her perfume invading his senses.

Finally, Cosmo straightened, shaking her head at him in disbelief.

"You have slain the caretaker. But you have no patron? How are you _whole,_ Miles Prower? How are you _alive_?"

Miles let out a sigh, both hands held up in front of him to ward off another surprise attack.

"Cosmo, I want to help, I really do, but can someone on this _entire_ planet stop being spooky for _ten_ minutes to explain what the heck is going on?"

The dryad stared down at him, her expression conflicted until she turned her back to him, fists clenched as she stiffly walked away, pausing at the doorway.

"I... cannot _help_ you, Miles Prower. I cannot show you the way." She paused at the doorway, shrouded in shadow once more. "But perhaps, if it is you..."

She turned back, lips pressed tight, eyes glittering in the candlelight. "Come with me outside, Miles Prower. I will tell you as much as I can."


	26. Chapter 26

I was but a child when I first heard your name, Miles Prower.

I do not know how many worlds you touched before mine, nor do I know of all those that came after. Only the Guide knows how many.

But he is gone. They burned him.

I was but a child, and still I heard your name, Miles Prower, as one who would change the world, as one who would save us in our endless war against the Mi-go.

And you know well how this story ends. You'll have heard many like it among the tomes of the lost, after all. You came to our world chasing Ivo Robotnik, your Sonic the Hedgehog dead at his hand. And you left chaos in your wake.

And my people, facing extinction at the hands of the Mi-go, were saved by this chaos. Our war, long fought, found peace at last. Until _he_ came. Iog-Sotôt, the Lurker at the Threshold, Opener of the Way. His hounds followed your _scent_ , Miles Prower, and his presence changed everything.

The dead rose from ash and soil, the rotten descended from above. My people fought, but they knew nothing of this new threat, nor how to stop the endless spread of the Lurker's shadow. The struggles of our warriors brought only more chaos, attracted only more attention until Cthulhu, the Great Dreamer, awoke. His eyes fell upon the land and his children took the night. My father sacrificed himself for us that first day, and we wept for him in the dark. There was nothing left to bury.

When Cthulhu slept once more in the coming dawn, his victims legion, we few survivors thought ourselves spared, but in his place came Idh-yaa, the Eater of Worlds, her mighty coils carving deep, festering wounds into the earth, spreading _his_ presence. Our great cities fell. Our people, already decimated by our war with the Mi-go, were all but extinguished.

My sister was lost to the dark that day, Miles Prower. I watched her fall. I heard her call my name.

And finally, when all hope was lost, Ahtu - the Caretaker, came before us, but we did not know, for he wore my father's skin. My father, who found your messages, Miles Prower, my father who wanted more than any to lead our people to victory against the Mi-go.

We few that remained followed him to the great castle he had prepared for us. To the place where we would be safe from the coming storm, where already the walls were thick with books. And we sheltered there in the dark.

And the black wind below changed us, warped us, until our last hours were filled with the scream of nightmares. My mother was with me at the end, Miles Prower. She did not cry out, but she did not last. I ran to my father when she died. To the one that wore his face. And I was bound, cast below into the dark.

I watched the end of my people that day, Miles Prower. Flesh fell from bone until only bone remained, still walking, still wandering, still screaming. And I wept, Miles Prower. I wept for all I had lost as the leaves fell from my head. I wept for my mother, as I watched her bones strangle a girl my age in the dark beside me. I wept for myself as I lay dying, my skin growing loose. And I cursed your name, Miles Prower, and begged you for mercy, for salvation.

And something answered.

Not all that lies beyond the curves is beyond reason, Miles Prower. There are those that can be… bargained with, persuaded. There are those with their own agenda, beyond our understanding.

And to her I was bound… Shupnikkurat, Lord of the Woods.

It was not for two hundred years that I learned why. The more a world _resists_ , the greater the meal. I do not know if you saw her touch on your world, Miles Prower, but she and Iog-Sotôt are linked and opposed, allies at war. They both seek dominion, and both would enjoy the struggle to last as long as possible. My lady's touch may be more gentle, but it is all consuming just the same.

Where once he reigned with impunity, she would place her mark also, seeking control. They choose champions in their service until one or the other is dominated. And with her victory, the world would become one way, with her defeat another, but I am sent all the same in service of the chosen. When called, I grant the seeds that restore the forest and the sunflowers that preserve it, and when my lady wills I grant the seeds that taint this land all the same.

This is my fate, Miles Prower, and I can do no more. This is the fate of those that remain. To grant these boons to others, but never use them. We are bound to the chosen, as we are bound to our patrons, and without the chosen we may only writhe in non-existence until we are recalled.

I do not know how you survived, Miles Prower. I do not know how you remain _whole_ in this place, only that you are a horror among horrors, that you are _unguided_ , and this damns us all.

For the guide has come to the chosen for as long as I have known him. Perhaps as long as you have been guiding _him_ , Miles Prower. With the guide the mysteries become unveiled, the ways of making, the way of offering lives to their patron. The offerings grant the chosen favour by which to gain our boons, favour you have never seen, favour you cannot recognise. If the pact is strong enough it can even whisk them from harm, or build a fresh body when they fall.

This world's chosen had a weak pact and a cunning mind. They slayed the great worm's vestige and ventured below. They burned the guide to free his patron onto this place. And then they died, laid low in the night by Ahtu, their deeds made worthless, the homes they made for us become ruins.

I do not even remember their name, Miles Prower, but without them, there is no hope for us. Even if you have somehow survived Ahtu, even if you slay almighty Hastur himself, we cannot grant you the tools to purify the corruption without the favour of a patron. You should _leave_. Return to your world and wait for the day it falls.

And when it falls?

Hope that you are among the chosen, Miles Prower.

Or pray that you are allowed to die.


	27. Chapter 27

There hadn't been many times in Sonic's life when he'd felt the need to be _faster_.

He was the blur blur, fastest thing alive. The number of things on two feet that could even keep up with him numbered in the single digits, and for most of them it was because Eggman had shoved a rocket engine up their butt.

Sonic raced across the snow, leaving a deep trench behind him as he slipped between trees, keeping half an eye out for any rings as he went.

And one particular ring, clutched in his damp hand for dear life, showed Tails talking to a strange human girl in some forest, his tiny body drenched red with blood as he walked like he was on fast forward in a movie, making Sonic feel _slow_.

Why wasn't she _helping_ him?

Why couldn't _he_ help Tails? He'd seen the state Tails' arm had been in when he'd emerged from the depths. Blood oozed from every hair, the limb limp and lifeless as he'd pushed it back through. It brought back memories of when the little fox had first followed him on his adventures, shrugging off injuries that would kill any ordinary mobian with a calm smile, always forcing himself to keep pace with Sonic without a word of complaint.

_"I just didn't want to slow you down, Sonic."_

Even back then he'd worried. Now it broke his heart. He might not have known any better when he was younger, just a kid himself, but he was supposed to be protecting Tails, not relying on a kid who was still two years younger than when he had first started out to save him. Especially not by doing _that._ He'd felt what it was like slipping his hand through that ring for even a moment, the overwhelming rush of feeling followed by an aching numbness that spread to his shoulder almost instantly. Having to hold that for half a minute would have been _torture_.

But Tails just didn't care about himself like that, so Sonic had to care enough for the both of them. Even when he couldn't do anything for him _but_ care. All he wanted to do right now was find Shadow, tear this portal out of the ring, drag his buddy back through, lock him in his lab and take away the key until he figured out what was going on with all this creepy stuff and could tell Sonic what needed to be done to _fix_ it.

Sonic grunted in irritation. No, even then he'd be putting all the pressure on Tails. What could _he_ do if it wasn't something he could fix by running or fighting? He snagged a lone ring from between some branches. Why were there so few of them around today? He had enough scrapes and bruises from last night's fight he was still aching all over. Even though thinking about that while Tails was-

Huh. Could he get Tails some rings? It didn't seem _too_ dangerous where he was, but Tails clearly didn't have any, and even one ring could keep him safe in a pinch. Did they not have any over there? Thank Yasuhara he'd been staying out of trouble so far.

Except for his arm.

Sonic grimaced, pushing himself to run faster, eyes peeled for any telltale hint of gold, but he didn't see a single ring, and soon Tails' lab came into view.

"What the?" He skidded to a halt, lip curled in confusion.

Blue and yellow twin turrets tracked his movement from beside the lab entrance, red lights flashing.

Some new badnik design? Had Eggman taken the opportunity to invade the lab overnight?

Sonic braced himself, staring at their brightly painted gun muzzles for the telltale flash for him to dodge... but the turrets' targeting lights flashed green without firing, then, a moment later, blue before slipping beneath the snow with a mechanical whir, metallic doors emblazed with his friend's twin-tailed logo irising shut above them.

"... Huh. That's weird." Sonic peered down at the disturbed snow surrounding the lab for the first time. Was that an _arm_? Gross. What happened here?

Wait.

"Big! Amy!" Sonic burst in through the unlocked door, stomach in knots.

A soft shushing sound came from the sofa, the tips of orange ears poking out over the top of the back cushion.

"Tails?!" He stumbled back in disbelief, glancing at the ring in his hand where his friend was staring up at him.

The shushing sound came again. Sonic rounded the couch to find his friend in miniature, settled down with a book in his hand and the other stroking the head of Amy Rose where she lay sleeping beside him. Her head rested on one tail, the other draped over her chest like a blanket.

"Good morning, Sonic." Tails smiled at him dreamily, eyeing him up and down. He raised an eyebrow at the ring clutched in Sonic's hand. "Looks like you and I have a great deal to talk about, doesn't it? Wh- wh-" Tails stammered to a halt as Sonic wrapped his arms around his tiny friend's shoulders before hesitantly responding in kind.

"I've missed you, little buddy." Sonic squeezed tighter, hoping some of his feelings might reach through to the fox's older self. "And yeah, this-"

"Wait." Tails pushed him back stiffly, glancing at the hedgehog laying beside him with a frown. "We should take this to another room. She's... had a tough night."

Sonic glanced at his friend - his annoying, stalkerish, friend - her eyes were puffy from crying, and her shirt was stained orange with dried blood and scorched black across her midriff. Now he thought of it, Big was nowhere to be seen.

"... Fine." He turned back to his friend's younger self with a grim nod. "And you're right, little buddy. We've got a _lot_ to talk about."

* * *

Big was all by himself when he woke up.

He didn't know why, but that was okay. His friends were busy people with lots to do. They had to save the world.

Big didn't know how to save the world. It was very hard even to save Froggy sometimes.

But Froggy was sleeping, so Big didn't have to save anyone.

So when he woke up, Big had gone fishing.

Big liked fishing very much. It was nice and quiet, and sometimes he caught fish. Fish was good to eat, and eating made Big happy.

He pulled his line, bringing up another fish from the ocean. It was a nice big one. He put the fish into the snow next to him. He would bring those fish back to Tails' house. He hoped Tails was home now. They could eat fish together, and maybe he would be happy too.

Big cast his line into the waves again, watching his lure bob up and down. He looked up at the floating islands while he waited. He hadn't liked fishing up there very much. With fish that bit him, metal fish he couldn't eat, and a box that looked at him, there had been no fish to eat at all.

He _really_ liked his new spinny ball though. It would be good for keeping bugs away next summer. Some boxes might be okay. So long as there were lots of fish.

Big's fishing line went very tight. He grunted as he heaved against it. This was a very heavy fish. But Big had caught a shark once, so that was okay. Slowly he reeled in the fish, feet slipping a little on the icy floor.

This was the strangest fish Big had ever seen. Big white ears, with a tentacle like a squid. It had feet like a person, and lots too many eyes. Most of its eyes were looking at him, even though the fish-person was floppy.

Big shook his head. This wasn't a fish for eating. He removed the hook from its clothes and got ready to throw it back into the water.

…

Wait. Big stopped to think.

Clothes?


	28. Chapter 28

"Is this really necessary?" Miles twisted in the makeshift poncho that trailed down to his knees, its coarse green fibres woven together from still living leaves.

"If they find out who you are, they will kill you," Cosmo retorted simply.

She had remained singularly unhelpful as Miles learned the basics of weaving, sewing, and fabricating living leaves out of dead wood matter.

It was a little annoying that the last of those had also been the easiest.

"Everything tries to kill me here anyway."

"And how do you normally get them to stop, Miles Prower?"

Miles shrugged with a frown. He was just grumbling. How many years had it been since he'd had to hide his tails? Back home he enjoyed a certain celebrity, a freak, but a useful one. Long past the point where most people even stared anymore, longer still past the point where that bothered him. But Cosmo had been stubbornly against his doing or trying _anything_ until he'd agreed to her terms. And even then only after he pointed out that he would need to wait for someone to open a way back home for him regardless.

What did she _want_ from him? "Perhaps if it's you", she'd said, only to say that it was _hopeless_. Did she want him to help or not? Was there something she wasn't telling him?

She said she couldn't _help_ him…

Miles shook his head, glancing at the dryad strolling beside him, her eyes pointedly ahead as they walked towards the ruined town at the ambling pace with which she seemed comfortable.

She'd seemed… taller, before. More… something. Intimidating? Intense?

Still smelled nice.

He looked away, rubbing the back of his head. Too much to think about, too many problems, immediate and general. Assume she was correct, he had no way of reverting the corruption. How was it spreading? The grass, certainly, and thorns. What of the rock? All the rock he'd seen below had been the same, impossibly hard, greasy dark stone that had given him such trouble digging his way to the surface.

Could he make a harder pickaxe? Meteoric metal and bone seemed about as hard as one another, so that would be a sidegrade, even if there was enough of it left to make anything more than a perpetually hot butter knife. Gold? It stood to reason that if he had been able to dig out the more mundane materials then they were too soft to be of use digging out the materials he could.

But was this even a meaningful line of thought? Dig out the infection like a rotten tooth? What would he fill it with? He needed to find out more, discover more of the world's secrets, more of its rules. And what could he run into out here that could hurt him worse than he already hurt? He'd discovered that salvation was a zero-sum game where saving one ruined the other. Everything he did had ruined countless lives even as he tried to save others. He knew deep down that the truth had already broken him on a fundamental level, but there was a twisted comfort in that. He could hardly make this _worse_ , so what kind of monster would he be if he didn't try and use the stubbornness that ruined this world to try and save it in the end?

Even if all he was doing was just buying time. He'd lived for so long, yet he always seemed to just be dealing with one problem after another. Earth was next on the menu, Iotsototh or whatever had already showed up there, the pattern of events seemed pretty consistent, so eventually one outsider or the other would "win", eat the other one, and then the world would shift to suit as they drifted nice and "close" to eat the chaos provided by the real Chaos Emeralds after five hundred years of appetisers.

Would they finally be happy if he left them to it? The Chaos Emeralds were _infinitely_ powerful, right? Would that be better? He'd apparently saved the world so many times… maybe… If he did nothing, would the end be better than the endless cycle?

Miles sighed, taking a long glance up at the ring portal, where a tiny Sonic was deep in a slothlike conversation with a tinier variant of himself. He longed to interrupt, demand answers, brainstorm with someone less _close_ to this than he was.

But had they even talked it through yet? Probably not. Even an _hour_ here wouldn't be enough for more than a minute or two.

"Conceal your second tail well, Miles Prower, and hide your name." Cosmo's voice broke through his musing, a blend of weariness and tension competing for dominance. "If they find out who you are-"

"They'll kill me, yeah, got it. Thanks for bringing me here." Miles flicked his wrist, sending Yorrick, portal and all, to nestle among a nearby tree. Cosmo hadn't mentioned it, but anyone taking a glance through the ring and seeing a twin-tailed fox, seemed like it would be bad even if he wasn't personally discovered.

"You should not thank me," Cosmo replied stiffly.

Miles shrugged, feeling the robe settle around his shoulders. Felt weird.

Fitting, everything looked weird too. All built from the same worked grey stone, no variation, not even windows, at least originally. Miles stared from one gaping hole to the next. No rubble. No sign of any destruction beyond the gaps themselves. At least the feeling of the corruption wasn't here. At least not yet. Even Cosmo seemed better for it. He still hadn't asked about her new colouring. Perhaps-

A gun barrel glinted from an opening. Miles slipped forward, arms outstretched in front of Cosmo.

"He will not shoot you without finding your nature." Cosmo lightly pushed one of Miles' arms out of the way as she strode towards the simple wooden door that was the only intended entrance to the building. "Nor will anyone help you. Remember that, _stranger_."

Miles could only frown in silence as he followed, seeing within a spartan room much like Cosmo's treeroot abode - or study? Still hadn't found out either way about that, either. Hadn't seemed the right time to ask many questions after Cosmo's story, somehow.

Footsteps sounded on wooden stairs beside him. Miles looked up to find once more that a gun was trained on him, the owner glaring at him from behind a barrel that jutted from the mouth of a roaring shark.

"Is this some kind of _joke_ , Cosmo?" The dark skinned human turned his scowl to the plant girl, walking down the rest of the stairs without his aim drifting an inch from Miles. "Is it Halloween _already_?"

"The cycle begins again, Dante Xavier." Cosmo didn't look at the human, staring instead at the single table within the room as she laid various fruits upon it. "The next realm is already bleeding through."

"Damn. But another _fox_? They're messing with us now." He turned back to look Miles up and down with a deepening scowl. One of his sleeves was completely absent. Had he lost an arm before?

The hand in question grabbed the fur of Miles' cheek, giving it a hard yank. He yelped, stumbling forward. The human held him upright with a sneer.

"Not a mask? Great, an entire planet of _these_ things? Set it up with Maria and keep 'em both the hell away from me." He shoved Miles backwards with a grunt. Miles landed on the floor with a thump. "And find out her terms!"

"This one has no patron." The dryad placed another apple on the table, still refusing to look at either of them. "Best to ignore it."

"Damnit. You brought in _another_ stray kid?"

"I simply walked here, Dante Xavier, same as any other day. The fox followed."

"Likely story." Dante leaned down, frowning as he grabbed the hem of Miles' robe. "What's your name, kid? Can you even talk?"

"F-Fiona." Miles spoke up quickly, raising his voice slightly in pitch as he laid his hands to hold the robe down.

As expected Dante quickly released the garment.

Humans _cared_ about clothes. Especially on females. It was _slightly_ off putting that he didn't even question that he was a girl, but Miles was used enough to that even among his own kind.

"Well _listen_ , Fiona, I dunno what Cosmo bothered to tell you but we can't _help_ you. Nobody can. So just stay out of our way and quietly wait for something to eat you, al-"

"Attack!"

Miles barely had time to react as a pink haired human woman leapt into the doorway behind him, pulling the trigger on a massive cannon. He stood, arms outstretched in front of Cosmo, eyes clenched as a deafening blast resounded off the walls…

No impact came.

Miles quirked an eye open. Brightly coloured paper drifted about the room. The pink haired human clapped her hands together with an excited grin.

"Oh it's _adorable_! Maria's going to love it!"

"Damnit, Cherry! Will you stop messing around with that cannon? You're not even supposed to touch it!" Dante snapped. "And _you_ ," he glared down at Miles. "Awful quick to jump in front of your girlfriend, aren't you?"

"Sorry, I thought about trying to cover you, but I calculated a better chance of protecting the smaller target." Miles stretched to his full size, barely managing half the human's height.

Dante narrowed his eyes, "All foxes talk like you?"

"All the ones I know." Miles smiled up at him.

Dante's reply was cut short as the newcomer grabbed Miles by the wrist with a barely suppressed giggle of excitement. Miles was dragged out onto the grey stone street with a word of protest from the gunman and stoic silence from the dryad.

"Hey! She's a stray! You can't be helping her!"

"Relax, party pooper! I'm just bringing her to see Maria, that's not helpful at all!" Cherry wagged her finger with a smirk before pulling Miles away.

Well, there went his guide. And hopefully the main person who wanted to kill him around town. Miles glanced up at his sunny captor, who was pouting as she walked.

"He's _such_ an old fuddy duddy."

"Doesn't like foxes much?" Miles tensed at asking the question, but an outsider wouldn't know, and he needed to convince them he was one.

"Well, nobody does much. Except Maria." Cherry shrugged. "Nothing a kid your age needs to worry about. Dante's just extra grumpy the last few, uh, years because the chosen dragged his _ladyfriend_ to hell, then… uh… 'left' before she could come back."

"He lost someone?" Miles perked his ears.

So much as _could_ be lost among these pactbound souls, at least. Cosmo had said that they were bound to the chosen, and Dante had mentioned terms as well - some kind of restraint on when they could appear?

"We've all lost someone, little fox." Cherry smiled. "But… life's still a party, you know?" She suddenly dropped Miles' grip to round on him, hand outstretched. "Name's Cherry, Cherry Pie. I hope you'll stick around for awhile."

"Mi- My name's Fiona. Fiona the Fox." Miles reached to shake her hand cautiously, pulling back in surprise as he discovered his fingers had now embedded in a thoroughly smooshed slice of cake.

Cherry laughed, giving him a wink.

"Imaginative name."

"Well, uh, we're named by our clan. I'm Fox clan."

"And… that doesn't get confusing?"

"In what way?" Miles raised an eyebrow.

"Ehh… Nevermind. Welcome to the party, _Fiona_. Remember to keep smiling just like that, okay?"

He was smiling again? Miles made a face as he checked with a hand full of cake. Cherry laughed again.

"See? Nothing's as bad when you can have a little fun."

"I'll bear that in mind." Miles wiped cake from cheek to mouth. It had barely any substance, and tasted overwhelmingly of sugar. "I thought you weren't supposed to help me?"

"Who, me?" Cherry put a finger to her lips. Even they were painted a vibrant pink. "Let's just say I'm lucky." She leaned close, opening a door in the wall behind him. "And you are too. Who else gets to have their cake and eat it too?"

Miles glanced down at the cake in his hand, sugar buzzing through his veins. It was both uneaten and intact once more. He raised an eyebrow as he was gently but firmly shoved through the door.

"Have fun with Maria, _Fiona_. She'll be _very_ excited to meet you."

The door clicked shut on Cherry's Cheshire cat grin, leaving the bewildered mobian in an undamaged, and therefore windowless, room, a single candle straining against the dark.

"... Hello?" Miles frowned into the gloom. He _really_ needed to stop letting people just drag him around places. Humans were just so _fragile_ he didn't really dare to fight back for fear of pulling their arm off or something.

"Is it… someone… _new_?" Two fuzzy orange ears perked up from behind the table, dark fingers dug into the wood of the table as golden eyes glared at him from the gloom.

Miles tensed as a terrified Terran cat scrambled from where the watcher lurked, pushing against the door in rigid terror as though to break through.

"Um, hey, yeah. I'm uh, Fiona. I was-"

" _You're_ …!"

A massive frame launched over the table at him, claws outstretched.


	29. Chapter 29

_This_ was why Miles was so cautious around humans.

"I'm _so_ sorry about this." He wrung his hands together as he apologised once again to the fluffy-eared human twice his size.

His reflexive response, honed by the long weeks fighting in this deadly environment - and Sonic's strict instructions on what to do if a human wearing animal ears ever tried to grab him - had to been to ward off the attack with his palm, just a _little_ too hard, smashing her through the table and leaving deep cracks in the wall beyond.

"Hah! It's fine." The girl grinned despite the blood seeping from between the fingers wrapped around her mangled knee. "Sorry if I scared you, cutie. I guess I should have learned to be more careful around foxes, huh? The last one bit me in like, the same exact place."

"Huh?"

"Oh! Not a fox like you though! Just a regular one." She grinned wider. "Can't help myself, I see something cute and I just wanna…"

Miles recoiled as she extended a bloodstained hand towards him. The whole fox ear thing was uncanny valley enough without the gore. She glanced down and retracted it with a sheepish grin, sharp fangs out of place on her human face.

"Oops. Sorry! Forgot." She laughed again, rubbing the back of her red-maned head with it instead.

Miles winced.

"So, you new? Does that mean we got a new chosen? I'm Maria by the way, you probably heard, huh?" She grinned, extending her bloody hand again, presumably to shake.

"Mi-... Fiona. The guy with the fish gun called me a stray?" Miles stared at the proffered hand until it was once again withdrawn. "Are… you sure you're okay?"

"Huh? In what way?" Maria tilted her ear quizzically. _So_ weird seeing that on a human. Advanced prosthesis? "Oh, my knee?"  
Miles had meant her head, but he nodded regardless, prompting the girl to leap to her feet.

"Ta da! Good as new!" She peered down at her leg, pulling a shard of wood out and tossing it aside. "Well, not _really_ , but, like, that'll be fine. So you're a stray? Oh my! We get a whole planet of critters who look like _you_ next?!" She squealed.

"... Yes." Miles had suddenly great empathy for the cat still trying to claw its way through the door to freedom, and another compelling reason to want to spare his world of this fate.

"Like, wow. That is… Oh, sorry it's happening to you and everything, it's just exciting. Maybe you'll even get chosen! Or get a pact! Then we can be _besties_."

"Sounds great." Miles put on a bright smile.

"Hey! Why don't I show you around town? You're stuck here for a bit anyway, right?"

"I thought you weren't allowed to help me?"

"I won't tell if you won't." Maria shrugged as she reached past him to open the door, freeing the cat to bolt to safety. Miles gazed after it in envy as he followed her onto the street. "They sent you my way to get you checked out anyway, after all."

"Checked out?" Miles quirked an ear.

"Yep. Make sure you're what you seem to be, you know? My pact is like, closest to the Guide's. I _know_ all the critters that show up here in the curves, and I pass that info onto the chosen once they offer 'em."

"Offer them?"

" _You_ know." Maria put a razor sharp claw against her neck and made a swiping motion before flinching and pressing her hand to her now bleeding throat. "Ow! Forgot I had these."

"You forgot you had claws." Miles frowned. Surely there was a limit to how much of an airhead someone could be? Should she be allowed out here on the street?

"Yep. Sorry, they're kinda new." She waggled her ears at him with a laugh. "The fox that bit me? Part of my contract. It turned me into this!"

Miles raised an eyebrow. Wait, those were real? And vulpine traits were contagious? Good thing _he'd_ never bitten anyone.

Or was it?

...No, with his mutant genes non-zero chance they'd end up with four legs or something weird.

" _Anyways_ , the bad stuff doesn't _normally_ show up when we're on our own like this. They're like antibodies y'know? But if you don't _belong_ like we do then they'll come into the curves to get rid of you."

"So the monsters don't attack you?"

"Huh? No, they _attack_ us fine, but they don't show up in the first place if they don't smell something that don't belong. Not that I'm saying you smell! But if there's enough of _us_ around then normally all you'll see are stuff like bugs and bunnies, even if a chosen or two is hanging around."

"But not always, right?"

"That's right! Oh, this all used to be homes, by the way." She pointed to the buildings around her, in neither better nor worse condition than the others Miles had passed previously. "There was Chuck's store. Real fun guy, you'll like him. Likes to mess around with science stuff when he isn't dead."

Clearly the terminology was going to take some getting used to when dealing with people for whom death was a transient state.

"But how'd he die if the monsters don't show up around you?"

Wait, did he accidentally kick one of those dynamite bunnies?

Maria smiled sadly. "Exception numero uno. The _real deal_ can show up anywhere they want, we're just beneath their _notice_ either way. Ahtu, that mean ol' bonehead, came lookin' for the chosen. And they weren't ready to fight him but they _tried_..."

"And you were caught in the crossfire."

"We've all died at least a few times already." Maria brushed her fingers across a doorway. "We spend all our time in the _angles_ waiting to breathe again, to come back to the curves and be _happy_ for a lil' bit."

Maria stopped suddenly, leaning back against yet another building of pockmarked grey stone - this one slightly taller than the others - as she massaged her knee.

"Well, most of us died this time, but there's a few of us still out there. Can't tell you find the ones that haven't been found, since that _would_ be helping, but Doc's still out there in the jungle doing his thing." She pointed in the same direction they'd been walking. "Could do you some good to look for him while you're looking for Cosmo's miracle, hm?"

"Whah?" Miles froze as a gentle hand laid upon his head. "How did you-?"

"Didn't I tell you? I know about _everything_ that walks the curves here." She raised her lips in a toothy grin, ruffling the fur around his ear. "And I know _you_ best of all, Miles Prower."

She released his head with a sigh, stepping around him with a neat pirouette that showed no sign of injured leg _or_ simple demeanour as she locked her golden eyes with his.

"Come see me when you find her, little guy. You _owe_ me that much." She winked before slipping around the corner and out of sight.

Miles let out a shuddering sigh. Was there one single normal person in this place? The bipolar plant girl who couldn't make up her mind if she wanted him gone, the human with a magic cake and a glitter gun, the angry gunman with a fish… and now some kind of omniscient furry?

Maria popped her head back around the corner, causing him to start in surprise.

"Oh! Forgot. This building was the chosen's workshop. They stored their treasures and tools and stuff in there and there's no door lock. _Definitely_ don't go in it when I leave, _okay_?"

"Uh… I-"

"Great! Bye!" She disappeared again without waiting for confirmation.

Miles was already reaching for the door.


	30. Chapter 30

As daunting a task as it may be to piece together information about a person by going through their personal effects, I believe I have reached a tentative hypothesis regarding the chosen of this world thanks to my shameless graverobbing.

In short, I can say with some certainty that they were a compulsive hoarder with the organisational skills of a schizophrenic toddler.

I can barely begin to understand it. A room of storage chests, barrels, and a trash can, filled seemingly at random, trash can included, with an assortment of various metals, gems, dirt, like, a mountain of dirt. _Literally_ a mountain of dirt, and just random trash. One barrel just contained a bunch of statues and gravestones, another had some old bandages, a used bandaid, an open tin of metal polish… There's even a chest just full of different types of fish. I can only assume that reverse entropy is to thank for them not being mostly liquid at this point.

In terms of the furniture itself, total mess. Everything is so densely packed together and laid in such a weird way that it's hard to even walk through the room without climbing over something, let alone imagine how they got any work done.

I'm including a list of the more interesting stuff I found below. If I don't mention it, it's probably because it was hidden under something. Probably more dirt.

Okay, so.

Item one, a working forge. Unknown material A. It's bright red and touching it set me on fire almost _twice_ as long as touching the furnace I set up myself at flower base one. I assume this means it burns hotter? I really need to invent a better thermometer than my own combustibility.

Item two, an olde tyme anvil...e. Unknown material B. Bright pink and nothing I've thrown at it has so much as scratched it. This was for some reason on the opposite end of the building from the forge, meaning that the chosen presumably ran this gauntlet multiple times while making anything.

Still, I always fancied trying my hand at some good old fashioned blacksmithing, I guess a universe where burnt fur grows back in a few hours is a good place to start.

Still going to be moving the anvil though.

Item three, glass ball, cracked. Material seems to be regular crystal glass, but touching it _hurts_. And no, I didn't touch the sharp bits. Obviously. Not sure of its intended purpose if it was functional, but whatever it is, I assume it isn't functional now.

Item four, weird drippy table. Constantly exudes a sweet yellow liquid, table itself appears to be… wax? Weird food prep thing? I have my magic cake if I want a sugar rush, so not sure what use I'd have for this.

Item five through seven, a table, sat next to another, smaller table, with a chair set between them. There's an empty glass bottle sat on the big one. I don't see why they'd need two tables like this, but it's the same wood as everything in this place. There's an empty piggy bank on the table, but I've never seen anything approaching money here either.

Note to self: Should I try minting my own currency? I doubt it would work, but symbolism, right? I could try "buying" something from Cosmo as a loophole to the whole "help" thing?

Item eight, a safe. Seems to be simple iron. Empty and unlocked. Is theft a problem here? I'll stick to hammerspace.

Item nine: A sink. Material… Seems to be carved out of a pumpkin, actually. Yeah, there's a _lot_ of pumpkins in the chests too. I haven't _seen_ any pumpkin plants around, could they have been lost to the corruption?

Anyway, yeah, taps seem to be iron. It's not hooked up to anything, but turning the taps makes water come out, flow into the drain… And that's it, it's gone again. No idea where. I've even picked it up, still does the same thing when it's upside down. Weird but cool, I guess. If I needed to drink.

Well, that's all for furnit- wait. Revision to item six. What I _thought_ was a chair was, in fact, a toilet. Gross, but not as gross as wondering what everyone _else_ in town has been using.

As for the storage containers that don't just contain junk, it's mostly a mishmash of human-sized gear, useless for me and most of the weapons seem worse than what I've already built.

Anyway, here's the goodies I found so far.

Item ten: A rock. Material… I dunno, rock I guess. It's red and grey, it's hot to the touch, and when I'm holding it, swinging my tails or trying to hit stuff I set on fire. A good kind of fire! The kind that Knuckles gets when he swings his fist super hard type fire. I'm not sure how useful it is, but the way it looks when I swing my tails is so cool I wish I had a mirror. Or knew how to make mirrors here.

Item eleven: A scarf. Material: Some kind of leather? It kind of looks like it has an eye on it. I dunno, scarves are cool so I'm wearing it anyway.

Item twelve: Seven crystal hearts. Well, zero crystal hearts. I am torn between being completely weirded out that I just ate a bunch of glass and gross without meaning to, feeling really _good_ afterwards, and wondering why - and _how_ \- the chosen was just collecting them without eating them. Is this drugs? Am I a drugs person now?

Item thirteen: Goggles. Smell sweet, _look_ sweet, do nothing. Still taking them anyway. If nothing else I'll be prepared for my next sandstorm.

Item fourteen: Rifle. Gears powered. Between it, a paintgun, and an old flintlock musket, I now have a working understanding of how a "traditional" firing mechanism works here, and a seemingly infinite amount of paint pellets to shoot with them. My first job as "blacksmith" is apparently going to have to be casting some real ammo since that's the one thing I _haven't_ found so far.

This isn't quite as exciting as it might have been if I hadn't just built myself a giant raygun, but still, alternatives to the beam array distributor are welcome. Skin was immune to fire, no guarantee I won't find something immune to laser next.

Item fifteen: Hammer. Primarily unknown material C. Okay, this thing is cool. It _glows_ silver, and not just when I swing it with my new favourite rock. This hammer is as tall as me, covered in gold trim and rubies, and just generally looks like the kind of thing you'd find on the cover of one of Amy's fantasy novels, right next to the burly shirtless mobian. Hopefully being burly isn't mandatory, though I wouldn't mind being shirtless again.

Item sixteen: Last and not least, this drill seems to be made out of the same stuff as the anvil. According to the sky outside, and my new gold pocketwatch, it's evening now, but in the morning I'll be heading out to see if this can break through blackrock. If it can then-

A thunderous banging erupted on the wooden door to the chosen's workshops. His dictation interrupted, Miles quickly slipped the page, and his second tail, out of sight, trying to look as innocent as it was possible for someone caught red handed to look as the door creaked open.

A pair of fox ears poked around the doorway.

"Maria?"

"Whatever you said your name was, you need to get out of here now _._ Run as far away from town as you can, get _underground_." The fox girl's hoarse whisper from the gloom outside.

"Huh? What's going on?" Miles tilted his head with a frown.

He had already planned to leave, but travelling at night, and underground in general had both proven themselves to be unpleasant choices for one such as him. Had his cover been blown?

The rest of Maria stumbled into the doorway, her skin sprouting tufts of thick orange and white fur as he watched. The candle flickered as crimson spread across the sky outside, the rumble of distant thunder sent a tingle of fear creeping down his spine as a thousand burbling moans cried out in its aftermath just on the edge of hearing.

Maria stumbled close, voice turning more guttural with every muttered word she spoke, fearful eyes glittering gold in the failing candlelight until she drew close, clutching him in her furry arms. Her entire body trembled as she pushed her lips close to his ear.

"This is going to be a terrible night."


	31. Chapter 31

Night had fallen.

The moon had risen, no longer candyfloss pink, but a deep red, a crescent gash torn into the horizon, shining through a gap in roiling clouds that hung dark and heavy above.

And the sky was bleeding.

"Danger coming! Run! Now!" Maria, now a massive fox herself, gnashed her teeth, eyes wide.

Miles felt red droplets splash against his thick fur, sticking to the fabric of his clothes. Almost at once it felt as though razor sharp barbs had driven into his flesh.

"Ah!" He stumbled back through the doorway, slamming it shut with a tail. Veins of crimson spread across his robe, tiny eyeballs briefly rippling open along its surface before the living leaves turned green once more.

"Nasty." Miles scraped blood off his fur before it could soak through more, rubbing where the rain had "bit" him.

" _Danger_! Leave!" Maria pressed against him, sharp claws protruding from her fingers.

"I can't go running around out there." Miles shook his head. She was barely coherent at this point. "I'm not-"

Lightning flashed through the hole in the roof, rumbling through his bones to shiver up his spine. Miles bolted under the table with a yelp, fur bristling.

And he wasn't alone. Maria shivered right alongside him, holding his arm in a vicelike grip.

"You…" Miles muttered through gritted teeth. "You too, huh?"

Better monsters than lightning.

And better an army than that tainted rain.

A crimson hand smashed against the door, tearing it open. Flowing red oozed down the wooden surface as a shambling, dripping red humanoid staggered into the room. Partially liquefied flesh sloughed off the bone as it sighted the pair of cowering foxes with pupilless yellow eyes and lurched forward, opening a lopsided jaw in its distorted face.

Lightning crashed again, eliciting a series of bubbling howls from the street outside.

Miles flinched. Seemed like the world had heard his thoughts and responded with a cheerful "why not both?". This was apparently exception number two to the safety that the town - or its inhabitants? - provided.

He reached into his hammerspace, pulling free a pistol and pulling the trigger in the same motion. A salvo of brightly coloured pellets snapped forth, exploding into bursts of paint as they hit the blood man with surprising force. Chunks of red blasted off its body, sending it stumbling to a momentary halt. The monster snarled, molten flesh flowing to cover the impact. Red blended brown and purple as it mixed with paint before a blazing hammer swung down on its head, turning the whole thing into a smoking stain on the ground.

Miles frowned, glowing weapon sat in the puddle of hissing remains as he grimaced at the downpour outside. Should he tell Amy about this thing? She did _appreciate_ a good hammer-

Another lightning flash revealed more shambling figures approaching from the gloom. He brought out the paintball pistol once more, liberally spraying the approaching horde with trembling aim.

Lightning _couldn't_ reach him here. He was in a stone building. A stone building with a hole in the roof. A stone building with a hole in the roof in the middle of a rainstorm where the rain posed a good chance of turning him into the very things he was shooting, and the terrified pit in his stomach didn't _care_ that lightning couldn't reach here. There was a non-zero chance that it could hit the ground nearby and-

Flash. Another crash of terror drowned out Miles' surprised yelp. Arms wrapped around his shoulders as a fuzzy form leapt on him from behind, Maria herself trembling in terror. Weirdly comforting. Was this a "misery loves company" thing? At least it was just sheet lightning, and far away. Distance meant safety, safety meant he could think, if only a little.

Focus. Miles fired once more. A blood man finally collapsed under the punishment, becoming one with the rain. A flying polyp made of equal parts blood and eyes took its place, drifting towards the building. A distant explosion preceded the ratatat of gunfire.

The others. Presumably they weren't in danger from the rain? Probably in danger from this horde.

"Maria! You need to let go of me!"

She growled wordlessly in response. Something scraped up the back of his head.

"Are you _licking_ me? Gross."

Without the charge packs on his armour there was no way he could use his beam gun for more than a fraction of a second, and with her dragging at him there was no way he could-

Lightning flashed, banishing the thought. A robot, the same type as the one he'd encountered on his first night, charged in from the dark, rain and paint dripping from its armour. He slammed his hammer down on its outstretched arm, severing it neatly at the shoulder. A second swing tore it in half. Hollow metal chunks hissed down to nothing.

Great, _not_ a robot. Try not to think about it.

More figures swarmed the entrance. Miles swung and shot on autopilot. He'd fought armies before. The most important part was to keep your body moving. Once you stopped, that was the end. That was when they got you.

Another explosion. They were still fighting. Was Cosmo still here? Had she gone back to her tree?

Could he reach them? What did he have? Dirt? Armour he couldn't wear? The simple metal blades he'd found were more use for whittling than fighting, and it wasn't like he could fight his way there in the rain anyway. Hard to think when lightning kept setting his brain to primal.

He thrust his hammer out, raindrops hissing against its blazing surface as it punched straight through the pelvis of a rotting humanoid and into the chest of the one behind. Both hurtled backwards, flaming projectiles that burst into the horde with brutal effect. However many he killed, more just kept coming from between the buildings, flooding the street with enemies.

Miles slammed the door closed in the face of another blood man with a horrid squelch. Heavy blows smashed against the door, shaking it on its hinges.

Lightning flashed again through the hole in the roof. Miles squirmed around in Maria's grasp, shooting a large bird - _fish_? - that flew in the opening.

… Alright, _that_ could work.

"Come on!" He dragged the fox-woman across the room's cluttered furniture, calling his helmet out of hammerspace. A weight that never really left now hung heavy on his head once more.

At least she wouldn't be able to lick him now.

Miles breathed, pulling his goggles down over his eyes and scarf up over his face. If he kept his head forward he could keep his ears protected by the helmet at least. Tails… He pulled them up against Maria, using them to peel her grip away.

The door burst open, a shambling corpse stumbling in dressed in what appeared to be a top hat and tuxedo, followed by a polyp, chunks of flesh dripping from its frame.

"Hold tight!" Miles yelled unnecessarily as he grabbed her wrist, kicking off to launch up to the roof, tails blazing as he ascended. Rain hissed away on contact.

There, he grabbed the edge of the ledge, pulling Maria up behind him with a grunt. Even if he _was_ strong enough to lift her more than a hundred times over she was still plenty heavy enough to pull him over if he wasn't careful.

Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating tiny clouds drifting towards them at unnatural speeds.

Miles extended his hands, pulling out lumps of dirt to seal the hole in the roof before forming a crude igloo around them block by block, finally jabbing a torch into place to bring some light into the pitch black enclosure.

Perfect. He spun his tails, burning away a few stray drops still sat on his fur.

"You'll be safe here." He firmly removed her grip, slipping towards the entrance.

"Leave! Bad night!" Maria moved to follow him, but another crash of distant thunder drove her back with a whimper.

"I'll be back soon." Miles stepped out, armour slipping into place around his body, cannon in his hands as he straightened. Lightning flashed, illuminating a seemingly endless mob of assorted monsters swarming below. "Maybe."

He couldn't stay out here for long. His poncho would probably eat him if nothing else.

Gunfire sounded out once more. Miles twisted the dial on his cannon to "2" as he glanced towards the noise.

Needles of liquid lanced down from above, clear rather than red, falling against his armoured wrist to tear a deep gouge in the fabric of his robe.

Unable to look up, Miles fired randomly above, rapidfire beams spreading out in all directions like a ridiculously exaggerated shotgun spread.

The downward assault ended, chunks of several creatures splattering down nearly indistinguishable from the crimson downpour.

Time to move. His beam gun blazed down, green among red into the crowd as Miles leapt from roof to roof, heading towards the outside of town. The creatures that survived followed like a wave, crashing through buildings to spill out the other side. They climbed over one another trying to reach him until he leapt in a graceful spiral through the hole in the wall of the building, blasting apart a blood man with a flaming punch as he landed. Dante and Cherry both looked at him open-mouthed.

"Hi!" Miles waved at them, twisting the dial on his cannon to "3" and levelling it to the open doorway. "Thought you might need some help."

Coils slipped into place as crude clockwork gears lined up with one another in a single unbroken sequence. He pulled the trigger, sparks of green crackling from the barrel of the cannon for a few seconds before a solid line of energy scorched forth, tearing a gap through the enemy swarm and setting fire to a tree on the far end of the town.

Finally the beam faded to nothing, batteries, and his own mojo, drained by the cannon's overwhelming power consumption.

"Are you two alright?" Miles turned his back to the now empty street, lifting the cannon over his shoulder in what he hoped was a cool pose.

They stared at him. Miles peered down at himself, robe more crimson than green at this point. Had he let his other tail poke out?

"What the heck are you still doing here?" Dante stormed towards him, gun raised.

"Didn't Maria find you?" Cherry shook her head, an unthrown grenade still held in one hand. "You should have _run_."

Miles tilted his head in confusion.

Wait, they weren't looking at him.

Miles turned back to the street, torrential rain the only sound outside.

And then lightning flashed overhead, revealing not one but _two_ massive eyes staring down at them from above.

Oh no.

Miles stepped back as two pupils larger than he was tall began to glow with power.

This was going to be a _terrible_ night.


	32. Chapter 32

This _wasn't_ going well.

Miles raised the drill before him as another wall loomed close, punching a hole through one side and out the other as the lower story of the building behind him exploded into green flame.

His poncho had been in there.

Not much of a loss though, it had been trying to eat him.

Miles switched drill for bowgun for a split second as the crimson-irised eye warped through the wall, crimson laser bolts scorching marks across abandoned furniture in rapid succession as he slipped from spot to spot, frantically sending a blazing arrow to sink into the centre of its pupil.

On the blue eye a pencil had been enough to make it shriek out in pain, _these_ eyes barely even registered the injury, even when flame engulfed its surface. Miles tumbled over with a growl as its green-eyed counterpart, attached to its sibling by a strand of bloody tissue, launched a burning projectile of its own through the open space he'd entered from.

He couldn't fly with the angry needle clouds and bloody rain.

Miles hurled himself into the door of the building, smashing it open into a bloodman with explosive impact. Green flame engulfed the room behind him.

He kept moving, tearing the door off its hinges and holding it over his head as he spun into a pirouette, blazing tails sizzling through a horde of groping hands and gnashing teeth as he struggled out into the street, fur burning with every splash of tainted liquid that spattered across his body.

At least the eyes were flammable. He slipped his hammer out one handed to launch a bisected zombie into Redeye like a blazing golf ball before taking cover behind another building. The rain was almost horizontal now from the driving wind. Harder to avoid. Especially while fighting so many targets at once.

And every drop took its toll. Miles snarled as Greeneye soared above, pupil blazing as another orb of flame brewed within.

He couldn't move freely among the crowds and the puddles and the buildings.

He pulled his paintgun free, blinding the monster before turning to run.

A pair of chattering wind-up teeth rounded the corner in front of him, the click of a detonator the only cue he had before it exploded. Miles' hastily raised door splintered as it absorbed the blast that turned it into a thousand barbs of pain. He hurtled through the air, spinning uncontrollably to smash into a stone wall on the neighbouring street, metal shrieking against stone as he slid down to the floor, ruptured eardrums ringing painfully.

Still alive. The thick folds of his scarf and goggles had kept his face intact at least, and between helmet and armour his vitals were still fine. He just had to keep mov-

He fell sideways, leg giving out with a wet crunch.

Miles blinked down at it.

He hadn't even felt it. _Didn't_ even feel it. By whatever combination of blast and corruption what was left of his thigh wasn't even _leg_ anymore. Propping himself up on one elbow he pulled the scarf off his face to down a flask of red liquid. Was it the same stuff as what was raining down on him right now? Should he just open his-

Miles shook off the dangerous notion as his destroyed hearing restored into ringing pain and vile nausea. No feeling in his leg still, the tissue was back but still _liquid_ hanging off the bone. He _had_ to move. Drill the-

Clicking teeth sounded over the rain. Miles spun to see another set of explosive dentures hopping down the street, heralding the first of many monsters as they shambled between the buildings, following him.

They _always_ followed him. Everyone else was incidental, targets of opportunity as they tried to wipe him from the planet. He'd dragged them across town, away from everyone else. Even the eyes. Where were the eyes? Where was _he_? His mental map of the area was confused now. He needed-

Leaves swept across the street from nowhere, clinging to the horde and himself alike. Miles rolled himself up to hands and knees, spraying a salvo of paint pellets into the crowd, flinching as lightning rumbled overhead.

Cosmo? Miles forced himself up to one shaky foot, still firing. Where were the _eyes_? He slipped the drill into his tails, using them to dig backwards into the wall as he retreated into the cover of the building, clutching the wall for support. The teeth bomb leapt forward, only to get snapped up in the jaws of a magical skull. Miles felt the familiar emptiness in its wake as his target exploded harmlessly in midair.

The door burst open behind him. Miles spun to see a shambling woman dressed in complete bridal attire lurch through the doorway, vacant eyes glittering in the light of a long untended candle. A muzzle flashed from behind her, and the zombie collapsed to the floor. Dante stepped over its remains, gunfish smoking.

"Damn, you're _still_ in one piece, kid?" He shook his head with a frown, firing a spray of bullets into the corpse bride at his feet until its body fizzed away entirely, leaving bullet-riddled dress and veil sat in a hissing puddle on the floor.

"Sure." Miles shrugged, coiling his tails together behind him. They were stained - hopefully just stained - in a protective layer of scorched blood and soot, maybe the human wouldn't notice. "What are you doing out here? Where are the eyes?"

He turned, swinging his hammer in blazing arcs to keep the horde at bay. More leaves swept up from the earth, stifling their movements. Had his batteries recharged yet? Should have test fired the combilaser in a safer environment first.

"You're not the only one they want, Fiona." Dante stepped past the room's table, his body dripping with crimson wet and covered in bites and scratches. "The heck are you still walking? You look like hell."

He unloaded his gun into the horde, blood and rot exploded across the street. Another explosion rang unseen nearby. Miles followed suit, paint pellets barely even registering compared to the true gun being fired alongside.

"I thought you weren't allowed to help me?"

"I'm _not_ helping you, kid." Dante snorted, barely stopping to switch targets before firing another volley. "You're helping _me_."

"Huh?"

" _I'm_ working out some tension." The last of the horde - at least for now - fell to the floor, leaf choked and gunshot riddled corpses melting into the puddles of red. "And _you're_ carrying my coat for me."

The gunman slipped off his duster, dropping it unceremoniously on Miles' head.

"Keep up. The clown's out here somewhere and I don't want chunks of you all over my jacket."

Miles raised an eyebrow. Was the gunslinger a _tsundere_?

No time to ponder. Miles hopped after the man as he strode out onto the street, grabbing his hammer into hand to use as an oversized crutch. The duster was like a tent on him, it was all he could to keep it from dragging across the wet floor using his tails but the rain simply flowed off the thick fabric, keeping him dry.

"Where are we going?"

"We're getting you _out_ of my town." Dante strolled briskly down the street, blasting apart a cluster of bloody eyes without breaking his stride. "Ah damnit."

A mad giggle broke the night as a sphere rolled into view, ridden by a human in full wig and makeup.

The clown, presumably. Bullets ripped across his chest and he kept coming, lobbing a hissing ball overarm towards them. Miles lurched one legged into Dante, pushing them both aside as it exploded.

A salvo of laser beams slammed into the ground around them, the human let out a pained grunt. Redeye loomed above them, deep gouges across its surface. Whoever it had been fighting had done plenty of damage.

Miles pushed himself upright, hammer extended towards the clown, gaze on the eyeball in the opposite direction as he struggled to distance himself from the prone human.

There was a mechanical winding noise. Miles hopped to the side to avoid a crimson beam, turning his attention to the clown as he tossed a pair of clattering teeth to the ground with a cheery grin. The clicking explosive lurched towards Miles without hesitation.

"Much obliged." Miles tossed the duster over Dante and lunged forward with his hammer, half scooping, half clobbering the windup toy with a flaming swing. The teeth slammed into the surface of the redeye, exploding with a flash almost as bright as the lightning itself. Chunks of flesh tumbled away from the enormous eye to reveal its interior, a mechanical laser cannon housed inside a metal shell.

A _robot_?

Well that was even better. Miles had been killing giant robots most of his life. He stretched his hand out, paint spattering across the surface of the laser emitter before it could fire again, then followed up with a flaming arrow to its internals. The numbness in his leg was spreading. He needed to-

A wall of leaves formed around Miles for a brief moment before a bomb exploded on the street next to him. The blast launched him sideways, skidding through puddles to land in a heap beside Dante. The burning in his left arm ceased, as did his grip on his hammer. It scattered across the ground.

Darn it.

Miles swung his good arm, grapnel latching onto the wall to heave him up and away from the human, tails snatching his hammer from the floor as he passed. He struck the wall of the building foot first, flipping the hammer into his hand as he launched one legged into the air. Rain pounded the lenses of his goggles as his tails spun into a blazing spiral behind him, propelling him like a rocket towards the redeye.

A laser shot. He didn't feel it, but he felt lighter all the same. Another shot. Sparked through the ear of his helmet.

Impact.

Metal collapsed beneath the flaming meteor he'd become, imploding around him as he erupted out the other side…

A metal blur surged into him from the other direction. Miles briefly perceived metal teeth before his breastplate caved in. Dull pain blossomed out from his stomach to his throat as he hurtled backwards, crashing down through a collapsed roof and rolling out the door on the other side, smashing through a pair of zombies like a bowling ball before he flopped to a wheezing halt in the middle of the road.

Still not dead.

And there was a mad chuckle as a colourful sphere rolled towards him, a mechanical clicking as the clown wound up another denture bomb.

"No!"

A flash of orange and white fur leapt from above, crashing into the clown in a flurry of fang and claw. Both attacker and cackling human fell into a side street. A single explosion punctuated the night, followed by a flash of lightning.

"Maria!" Miles gasped. He could barely breathe, the crushed armour had clamped down on his chest like a vice.

A hand reached down to pluck Miles from the floor by his remaining arm.

" _Nug_ you're heavy." Dante grunted as he wrapped Miles in his duster and slung the armoured fox unceremoniously over his shoulder. "Cosmo!"

A door opened in a nearby building. The human lumbered towards it, blood trickling from his laser scorched flesh as he unleashed a volley of bullets into the gathering crowds.

Miles focused through the spots in his vision, slipping his body armour into hammerspace and let in a shuddering breath. Dante straightened with a grunt of surprise as over half his load was deferred somewhere that gravity couldn't have an effect on. He ran towards the open door at renewed speed.

But not quickly enough. Miles grimaced as the greeneye, "eye" parts now replaced by gaping mechanical jaws, hovered before them, green flame spilling from its mouth, burning away leaves and bullets alike as they bounced uselessly off its leviathan frame.

"Hey, Foxboy! Catch!"

Miles blearily looked up to see a metal disc spinning through the air towards him.

His hand snatched out, clamping down on the rim.

A huge shield as tall as he was, almost the mirror image of the "eye" bearing down on them, a white surface with a jagged mouth torn open where the iris would be. A horned silhouette loomed for a moment against the lightning sky, then vanished into the dark once more as the greeneye sprayed out those brutal flames like a flamethrower.

Miles was already moving, tearing out of the duster to throw his grapnel into the flame. It clamped down on a metal tooth and he hurtled into the stream. Licks of green spilled around the edges of the shield, his fur conflagrating in half agony, half relief as the seeping horror burned from his bones along with everything else.

And he laughed.

Because he deserved worse.

Miles slammed shield first into the eye, feeling something in his leg _give_ on impact. Metal teeth bent and cracked as he jammed the shield into the robotic horror's open maw, stemming the flow of fire. Miles held on with burning tails as he swung his hammer again and again, feeling metal buckle and break beneath his blows, laughing all the while.

And then he was swinging at air. The massive sphere collapsed away from his attacks until nothing remained and he fell, shield rolling away as he sprawled smoking out on the street. New growths rippled across his torso as charred flesh was rinsed clean by blood rain.

And a coat was thrown across his body. Dante stood over him, lips curled in a sneer, fishgun raised.

"Still alive?"

"I'm sorry." Miles rasped, trying and failing to shrug.

"You _should_ be." The human once again plucked Miles off the floor, fingers sending needles of fresh pain through his torso. "What dumbass kid doesn't know how to _run_?"

He pulled the trigger, holes exploding through the body of the nearest bloodman as he walked briskly into the building from before, slamming the door shut behind them.

Miles was dimly aware of a _lack_ of furniture, and a presence of Cosmo, stood beside a gaping black hole that extended far beyond the flickering light of the torches installed above it.

"Here. Toss her, we can't hold out here."

Miles, coat and all, felt himself thrust into the dryad's outstretched arms. She barely strained under the weight of what was left of him.

"The twins have fallen?" She didn't even look down. "This _fool_ slew another?"

"And the ogre girl." Dante pressed his shoulder against the door as a dozen hands battered against it. "No pact. Never seen anything like 'em."

"It changes nothing. There is no hope for us." Cosmo shook her head, eyes - blue streaked with red - narrowed as green energy flowed through her. "Now or forever."

"You're a real _peach_ during the- oof!" The door burst inwards, zombie, wrapped like a mummy in leaves, stumbled through the doorway, one in a sea of faces behind it.

And a cackling laugh rang out as a hissing bomb bounced into the room.

Miles tried to move, burnt, tainted flesh unresponsive. Cosmo cursed, leaves hurtling towards the explosive.

And Dante lunged into them both, pushing them tumbling backwards into the void.

"I'm comin' Katie."

The human's smile was the last thing Miles saw before the world above exploded into fire and ash.

And then there was only Cosmo's arms around him, and the dark rushing around them as they fell.


	33. Chapter 33

Reason had worn many faces over the centuries.

She had been an avenger, set to bring Miles back to Doodle before she, and her shadows with her, died of old age.

She had been a survivor, watching as Miles heralded the fall of everything she knew, pulling her from her fate by an act of sheet impossibility.

She had been a caretaker, a gaoler and an escapee, all for the same prison.

And she had watched this hedgehog die.

Slowly, over the course of decades, settling into a slow, happy twilight of old age and a comfortable, painless death after a life defined by freedom, exploration, and speed… while dying trapped in the same bottle for most of his life.

And she had loved him. And what part of her had still been mobian enough to feel had tried to weep for him.

And here was her child, that had never died, never grown old, never been lost.

And hadn't been killed by the girl sleeping in the next room.

"Alright." Reason nodded, touching her hand to Sonic's arm with a smile. "I understand. So we need to stop an alien invasion, find Knuckles and… Rouge?" Unfamiliar name, hopefully to the person she was impersonating too. "Save them, solve whatever's going on with your body, find Shadow, beat up these 'Zeti', possibly save them, fix the portal, get future me home, and prevent the apocalypse… right?"

"You got it in one little buddy." Sonic grinned, raising a tattered glove in a thumbs up. "And maybe fix the TV. It's getting _real_ boring in here lately."

Reason sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

She'd just wanted a boy to tell her he liked her.

Fine, she needed to start somewhere. Reason glanced at the ring portal. A quiet sunny glade. No sign of Miles through it, mixed blessing. If Doodle saw him she'd probably do something drastic at the first opportunity, an apocalyptic world with Miles was infinitely preferable to a stable world without. Time dilation was extreme so… She'd need a way to circumvent the issue when communicating as well. Difficult to procure samples from everything Sonic had said, but…

Sonic cleared his throat.

"So… uh… anything you need _me_ to do?"

"Oh, sorry, Sonic. I was just thinking."

She'd spent so long watching others living that she wasn't used to being _watched_ while she was thinking either.

"Never change, little buddy." Sonic grinned, rubbing her head roughly.

She flinched, Sept's addled memories flashing through her brain. Sonic recoiled, hurt on his face.

"Sorry, too rough?"

"It's fine just… How about you take a shower?"

"Oh, you saying I smell? Is that it?"

"Well you _do_ smell pretty bad… Fish maybe?" She tilted her head.

Sonic laid his long nose against a shoulder, taking a long sniff. He recoiled.

"Whoof, yeah, maybe. I was pretending to be one long enough anyway"

"Mainly it's so I can take a tissue sample. You're the only specimen we have with both red and purple contaminants to test. It's apparently stable in you so we might be able to devise a counter agent with your blood."  
Sonic made a face. "So needles?"

"Afraid so."

He sighed.

"Alright, back in two shakes of a hogs tail!" He bolted.

"Use soap!" Reason called after him.

She should probably get clean herself. And Amy. Doodle's mind was mechanically stable as only an AI could be, but Amy…

Reason sighed. She was going to have to deal with that sooner or later as well, though exactly how was beyond her. Doodle had had a _month_ here with all her genius, with free access to Miles' lab and an intelligence programmed into her that was beyond even Miles' own. In effect she needed to convince her past self that she _was_ herself before she killed her...self.

…

The pronoun use was probably the thing she missed least from her days as one of endless Doodleclones.

Still, her short term strategy at least was clear. Keep a low profile, maintain a quiet background role as she got up to speed with Miles' work and the situation at hand, and avoid attracting any more attention to herself than possible.

A massive figure smashed open the front door, beady yellow eyes staring unblinking at the room within. Purple and white fur wrapped around an obscenely large body. One hand carried a morning star glowing an unholy midnight hue while the other held aloft a dead mobian woman. The giant opened his mouth, revealing his sharp fangs as he bellowed across the lab.

"Breakfast time!"

Reason screamed.

* * *

Shadow opened his eyes to a splitting headache and a foul temper, his arms bound to a mechanical table by thick metal restraints. Machinery hung above him, familiar and foreboding. A roboticisation array.

He'd… Eggman? Why was Eggman here?

No, the answer was obvious. The guardian was out of commission, Eggman was never one to let a crisis go to waste. He needed to get out of here and take Eggman out before things got any worse.

He strained, his restraints creaking until electricity crackled through his body.

"Ugh..." Smoke rose from his fur.

This wasn't good. He could maybe use Chaos Control even without one of his- wait, his other inhibitor ring was missing too. In normal circumstances this might have even been a good thing. But right now it would probably just leave him with an uncontrolled chaos blast, this time with him in the middle.

Maybe he could… Shadow strained with a leg, at least attempting to land a kick on the machinery above with no success.

"... Damnit."

"Ah, you're awake?" An unfamiliar voice spoke from the corner of the room.

Shadow twisted in his restraints, pressing against his own spines to try and catch a glimpse of the speaker.

"Who's there?!" He snarled. Sounded like a woman's voice. Young. The doctor got himself a helper?

"A friend." The speaker stepped into view, a young echidna with glittering blue eyes and traditional tribal garb leaned over him, a small smile on her lips.

"What the-" Shadow's lip curled in confusion. "Who are you?"

Echidna were almost extinct on Earth. Apart from Knuckles, the only other echidna was Shade, a lone defector from the Twilight Cage's Nocturne clan.

And this _wasn't_ her.

"Like I said, a friend." The girl's smile didn't so much as twitch as she walked close to the table. "I would be your _guide_ , child of the Black Arms."

Shadow took a sharp breath, a dozen questions ran through his head, but he needed to focus on what was important right now.

"Can you get me out of here?"

"Of course." Her blue eyes glowed even when her face was in shadow. "Do you seek power?"

"... What do you want?"

"Only for you to say _yes_." Her lips split into a glittering white smile.

For some reason her expression set unease deep in Shadow's stomach, even though he'd thrown in with worse than some weird echidna girl before to get what he wanted. He shrugged it off as best he could with his arms bound.

"Fine, yes. Now get me _out_ of here."

"Then I choose you, Shadow the Hedgehog. Until my very end." The echidna pulled a bottle of translucent blue liquid from nowhere, holding it aloft. "I will show you the way."

The girl swigged the bottle and leaned forward, pressing her lips against Shadow's own as he struggled. Icy liquid prickled against his lips, those glittering blue eyes calmly staring into his own until he grudgingly allowed it to flow into his mouth. A bitter taste touched his tongue.

And then he was free. His hands unbound, the world fading all around him as he was falling through space. The echidna girl smiling at him was the only thing still present, her glistening lips once more split into a grin.

"You will be a fine champion indeed, Shadow the Hedgehog."

Shadow landed on softness. He surged upright, pistol in his hands…

He was in his own apartment, the crumpled sheets of his unmade bed trampled beneath his feet. There was no sign of the girl to be found beyond the icy chill that lingered on his lips.

And the bitterness that clung to his throat.


	34. Chapter 34

Miles wasn't dead.

It took him a little longer to deduce than usual, immersed in warm, sticky liquid that clung to his fur, his limbs intact, and seemingly even solid beneath the viscous surface, if an experimental twitch was any indication.

That latter fact was more surprising than the first, given what he remembered. Was the bloody taint only temporary? It would explain why he hadn't seen stray blood men running around before. Unless their liquid form was just inherently unstable, but unstable on this world of negative entropy seemed almost impossible.

He breathed, sulphur and sweetness flooding his senses in equal amounts as his brain caught up to the events before he had lost consciousness. It left him wishing for the warm embrace of oblivion once more, especially cradled in that soft, comforting warmth...

"I see that you are still alive, Miles Prower."

The warmth partially retracted. His eyes flicked open to reveal Cosmo's upside-down face staring at him, alien features lined with the mild distaste that he'd come to expect from the dryad.

That explained the sweet smell at least.

"I... guess you're right." Miles tilted his ear, allowing the thick yellow liquid of the pool in which he lay to slowly flow out, gradually taking in his surroundings. A dim shaft extended above further than any light could penetrate. He faintly remembered noting the endless acceleration as he fell, the lack of any terminal velocity as the wind blew past ever faster... Had the yellow liquid cushioned their impact? It didn't _seem_ more than a foot deep. And what about surface tension? Some kind of special material? He sniffed it, following up by licking a droplet trickling down his jaw... Honey.

Par for the course for his eccentric predecessor, he supposed.

Wait. If her face was at that angle-

Miles sat up hurriedly, creating a small wave in the surface of the honey pool around him.

"Sorry about that."

Cosmo shrugged, motes of green energy crackling from her body as she directed a storm of leaves around her. A blazing bat tumbled below as its fire was choked out by clinging greenery. Miles glanced down after it. Lavafalls spilled endlessly from the ceiling of a massive cavern stretched out below them, feeding an ocean of lava dotted with islands of charred stone and towers of alien design.

Bat winged humanoids flew past in the distance, potshots of purple energy occasionally crackling through the air to crash against the vast pillars of ash and stone that supported their sky, as if they hoped to eventually bring the world above crashing down, even if that would crush them in the process.

Well this was a Hell of a way to wake up.

"You landed upon my legs on impact. Had I moved you would have drowned."

"Oh." Miles rubbed the back of his head with a sticky hand. He frowned. Was going to need to replace that glove. Pretty sure that was the hand the note from his "parents" had been stored as well. "Well, thanks."

"I have not _helped_ you, Miles Prower." Cosmo shot him a dark look.

"I know." He nodded. "Thanks for not killing me though. I appreciate it."

Cosmo peered at him, her expression relaxing to mild disdain once more.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?" Miles blinked at her.

" _Do_ you appreciate it?" Cosmo stood from the pool, yellow liquid dripping from leaves and skin. Like himself, her lithe body too appeared to be free of traces of the corruption that had plagued it in the lands above.

Not that he was staring. Miles looked away hurriedly.

"I… yes?"

"Then why did you fight _,_ Miles Prower?" She sneered faintly down at him. "Why did Dante Xavier need to sacrifice his life to banish you here?"

Huh. That "no help" rule was clearly pretty comprehensive, at least for these two. Even though they seemed to _want_ to help... Miles frowned, the memory of Dante's final moments looming to the forefront of his mind.

"I couldn't get away from them." He looked down at the surface of the pool. "Not in the rain."

"Lies." A leaf slapped against his cheek. "You believe they could keep up with your speed? That your mad struggle did not expose you to the blood moon's taint worse than simply fleeing to the depths?"

"I… wanted to help you people."

"Indeed? Were you not told that the forces of this world leave us unmolested in your _absence_ Miles Prower? Did the _Caretaker_ represent some grave threat against the dead of the catacombs that you must face him there and then?"

"Well-" Another leaf slapped across his mouth.

"Why were you _smiling_ , Miles Prower?" She turned away from him, stepping out of the pool onto a ledge of natural ash, slender limbs finding easy purchase on the crumbling surface as she strode towards the edge.

Miles blinked.

"What do you want me to do?!" He surged to his feet, tearing the leaf from his lips with a snarl, yelling after her departing figure. "This is _my_ fault! I have to do _something_!"

"Death is no absolution, Miles Prower." Cosmo didn't slow her pace. "It does not bring anyone back." Cosmo turned, the same cheerless smile on her lips as the day he met her, poised at the edge of the ledge. The orange glow from the cavern below cast stark shadows across her skin. "I know that better than anyone."

She stepped backwards.

"Cosmo!" Miles screamed.

He burst forward, world in horrid slow motion around him...

"Why do you stop me, Miles Prower?"

The dryad dangled from his grip, Dante's coat fluttering down to the lava below, a fabric bag clutched in her sharp fingers as they hovered above the sea of flame.

"Why the heck do you _think_?!" Miles grunted, frantically straining his tails to gain altitude, back towards the ceiling high above.

"You cannot _help_ me, Miles Prower. And you _cannot_ save your world." Cosmo rocked in his grip, refusing to grasp his wrist. "You cannot save your _friends_."

"I can _try_." Miles snapped. A spiral of purple fire screamed past his ear as a demon took notice of their intrusion into its territory.

"For how long?"

"As long as it takes!" He grunted as his tails gave out, hurling his grappling hook to barely stretch into a stalactite of pale stone dragging them upwards and sideways to a fresh outcropping. Panting, he flipped his exhausted tails to coil around Cosmo's body, using his hands to launch the ends of the twin grapnel into one wall after another. Demonic blasts exploded around them as he angled towards a higher ledge, sending ash crumbling into the depths below.

"And at what cost?"  
Miles flinched, grabbing the edge of a stone outcropping and flipping her up onto it. He hopped backwards onto the pursuing demon's horned head, wrenching its wings off with his bare hands to send it spiralling down into the pit below. He launched upwards again, turning to glare at the dryad sneering down at his ascent.

" _Any_ cost." He whispered through gritted teeth.

Cosmo smiled.

"Then see that you live to pay it, hero."

"I never said I was a hero." Miles scowled, alighting on the narrow ledge beside her. The wings clutched in his hand became a book, its abyssal letters unheeded as he slipped it away, not taking his eyes from the dryad before him.

"Indeed." Cosmo dropped the fabric sack at his feet to grab a fistful of fur on his chest, pulling him close. "Then slay all that oppose you, steal your prize from the gods themselves. Be my _villain_ , Miles Prower, and show me the impossible I have read about you all these years. Show me the power of your _greed_."

Miles stared into her blue eyes, glowing softly in the dark light of below.

And he grinned madly as wheels turned in his mind, a mind that had wiped out the kukku, that had doomed the world in order to save it. The seed of a plan. One last sacrifice.

"I will." He nodded. "Thanks, Cosmo."

"I have not _helped_ you, Miles Prower." Cosmo released his fur with a frown.

"I know." He nodded in sad agreement as he picked up the sack, twin eyes emblazoned upon it. "But thank you all the same."

First he needed to get out of here.


	35. Chapter 35

Miles' Log, Stardate: I wish I could see the stars.

Today's weather: Subterranean abyss. I drilled up into an underground lake a few hours ago, which I guess could count as rain. Almost drowned, got bitten by a fish. Still better than the _last_ time it rained, at least. And way better than the lava pocket. Lava is _surprisingly_ survivable here by the way. I wonder if it's a combination of the Leidenfrost effect and reverse entropy. Maintaining a layer of evaporating skin in between lava and the rest of you?

Well, don't really want to experiment with melting my arm off again. Did manage to scoop up some lava in a bucket though. Don't ask me how that works - well, you can't anyway since this is a recording - I also managed to _melt_ a bucket by dropping one into the same lava pool, but it's not even _close_ to the weirdest way to break physics I've found so far, which includes the closest I've come to a usable plan on "stabilising" this world.

Yes, _this_ world. Saving mine is, um, a work in progress.

Anyway, long story short, in mad world physics there's no confusion whether the glass is half empty or half full, it's either _emptying_ , or it's _filling_. Liquid either disappears entirely when it gets too shallow, or it _spontaneously appears_ when it gets deep enough.

Suffice to say that thanks to a creative application of glass blowing, five buckets, and a willingness to drink stuff that's been on the floor, I no longer have a supply issue with healing drinks, water, honey - which imbibing in sufficiently large quantities seems to work even _better_ than the red stuff - that flammable gel that all those slimes are made out of, or lava.

I'm not drinking the lava. Obviously. But not bad, right? Trying to find more liquids as we speak. If I could manage to _not_ eat the next glass heart I find I'd pour whatever was in _that_ out, but I've, uh, not been doing great on that front. Maybe the rain?

Wait. _Yorick_. I sent it to hide in a tree. Would the rain affect it? Could it drip into the portal?

Ugh. Great, there goes my good mood.

… Well, no big loss. I'm pretty sure that it's a memetically induced emotion anyway so it'll be back in a minute. Cosmo calls this place the "Hallow", and to all intents and purposes it seems to be a less horrible form of corruption, released when the guide died. Still _dangerous_ , but… nicer? The stones are shiny and white, with naturally occurring crystalline growths on the walls rather than naturally occurring screaming tentacles. Even the monsters here are more like something you'd see on some retro music album than a horror movie, all luminous pink and radiant glowy bits instead of eyeballs and gross floaty chunks.

Still trying to kill me of course, although not with much success. The bag Cosmo, uh, "accidentally got caught on" when I dropped it into Hell contained… Well, mostly useless junk, broken machine parts, and assorted glowy bits, actually, but it _also_ contained a supply of processed metal of the same kind as my hammer. I just so happen to have recently graverobbed an anvil and duplicated enough lava to boil an ocean so now I'm the proud owner of a suit of Enchanted Battle Armour, patent pending, making me look like a _real_ fantasy hero.

Hm. I wonder if Amy would be impressed?

… Nah, she'd probably call me a dork or something.

Well, anyway, thanks to my, uh, "compact" physique I even had enough left to make a length of razor wire with the rest. While I admit that doesn't sound quite as _flashy_ as crafting my very own Excalibur, since the power cores for my beam cannon never recovered, and there's not exactly any _wood_ down here to restock my bowgun, the need to murder things at a distance takes priority over the need for a highly redundant close combat option, however flashy. By plumbing the deepest depths of my creativity this has allowed me to forge the… uh… bit of wire with a hammer stuck on the end. The… wire hammer. The _Whammer_. Yeah.

The Whammer's a bit flashier than it sounds actually, since every time I swing it the whole thing sets on fire, wire included, and what with the whole thing being made out of magic god metal, this makes the stabby string bit surprisingly good at cutting stuff, including uppity glow monsters that think they're better than me. And since centrifugal force _sort_ of still works on madworld physics, the hammer ends up hitting harder too. Cosmo's a bit less than impressed, of course, but she's at least learned to stand behind me while I'm fighting now.

Incidentally, I've already broached the idea of simply _carrying_ her for expediency, only to be informed in no uncertain terms that any such attempt would be punctuated - puncturated? - with a hawthorn bush. Oh well.

Still, my obscenely unhelpful and _slow_ travelling companion aside, being able to actually dig through the stone down here, and being equipped with the mighty Whammer, has made traversal comparatively simple compared to my last fateful subterranean excursion. Here's hoping _very_ simple, because I'm hoping to get out of here before I turn into a nightlight. My fur's already starting to look a bit like Amy's, and not really hoping for the whole twinsies look, if you know what I mean.

It's not _super_ easy to think things through in an artificially induced haze of quasireligious contented bliss, but I have been trying to wrap my head around the various corruptions and the common traits between them in an attempt to know my proverbial enemy. Or was it literal enemy?

Anyway, first is my good friend the purple corruption. It's related to Iog-Sotôt, which is a real pain to say three times fast, and it would seem to play a big role in breaking into reality from whatever horrible place these, for want of a better term, "gods" live. This would be borne out by purple being the "first" corruption to show up, back in Cosmo's world, and it's best described as being a state of endless _decay_ , an endless degradation of the world and… and the self.

Second, which I've never encountered, but Cosmo's very familiar with and Sonic's clearly fallen into, is the red corruption. This one belongs to Shupnikkurat, Cosmo's cosmic boss. Apparently this stuff is defined by _life_ , though I've not managed to get much more than that out of Cosmo. The red corruption's a big collective organism, everything playing their role for the greater good. Can't say I'm upset I've not experienced it personally, but it seems like it might be the logical extreme of "nature".

Third is an odd one, in that it was tied to the moon, rather than something on the world itself, and whatever force that was was clearly strong enough to taint everything, at least that the moon could _see_. Candyfloss is a weird colour for a moon anyway, could the moon itself already be tainted? Good thing it was only temporary, being turned to liquid was unpleasant.

Ooo! Maybe if it happens next time I could try catching myself in a bucket? I… should probably check with a bloodman first though. Sounds like a good way to get an evil twin.

Fourth, fittingly, would be the taint of the dead. Cosmo described this quite clearly in her story, though I wasn't in the catacombs long enough to notice myself, and it seems to permeate every part of the world to some extent, with the zombies, skeletons, mummies… I'm going to go out on a limb and tie it to Mister Skin, or Ahtu I think he was called. A passive grazing of the dead? I'm not even sure if they have a will of their own or if their bodies are just recycled tools, but this one is everywhere and always.

Hell I'm not sure about in the slightest. It _is_ where the guide was burned, apparently, but is it its own corruptive force? A symptom? Or is it something that just naturally occurred on this world? On all worlds? The prospect of literal demons lurking in the depths of the Earth is… actually I'm not even sure if it is creepy at this point, my standards for normal as so far gone by now I'm just happy they're minding their own business down there.

Finally, at least that I know of, is the Hallow. The etymology is pretty obvious, sacred ground, but I can't help but wonder. Madworld is defined by a lack of causality, of disorder constantly becoming order, and I'm assuming each of the manifestations, except maybe Hell, is a byproduct of each particular feeding process… preference?

Decay might be seen as the act of entropy in action, breaking down what is to something else, but a state of absolute decay is one of perfect uniformity, all things eventually becoming nothing. Life opposes that, hence the natural conflict between the two, but life is similarly order in a chaotic universe, same for the reversal of death.

So what of the hallow? This shiny underworld with beautiful fractals and perfectly refined lifeforms might seem…. Desirable? But I can't help but wonder, doesn't that just mean the thing behind it is just the greatest chaos eater of all? And that it must be _released_ by the guide and the chosen… Are the chosen being led to feed their world to this ultragod?

There is one thing that gives me hope. Hopefully real hope, not this happy feel good uplifting hope that bleeds from the rocks around me. These existences are not _free_. They have moved to follow me, and they've broken in wherever the boundaries between worlds got thin, but they appear to have done so more or less sequentially. Perhaps they _are_ just reflections here, where they show up on the world, but that they are bound to the world in some actual concrete sense seems obvious. If it is the loss of this world as the corruption overtakes it that permits them to move to mine, and it is chasing my chaos tainted self that leads them to new hunting grounds...

Huh. Wait a minute. If I'm _here_...

I think I need to check something real quick.


	36. Chapter 36

"What are we going to do with her?"

The question sounded more numb than urgent. Amy Rose sat on the couch, deep sunken eyes locked in a haunted expression as she stared in dull horror at the thing that Rouge had become… and at the thing _he'd_ become.

Sonic rubbed the back of his spines. How bad did he look that even _Amy_ was spooked at him? She was usually _uncomfortably_ close.

"I'm checking the lab's inventory now." Tails spoke up from Amy's lap, the Miles Electric oversized in his tiny fingers. _He_ didn't take his eyes off Big. "If I know M… me, there might be something we can use to contain it… _her_ when she wakes up."

"You sure, little buddy?" Sonic frowned. "This _is_ Rouge we're talking about. She was even stronger than before when we faced off on the Lost Hex."

It wasn't something he really wanted to think about. He didn't lose often, but he _definitely_ couldn't call that a win. Rouge & Knuckles were almost unstoppable, two titans that had shrugged off everything that Shadow and him had thrown at them and kept on swinging. Even this badly injured, even after being washed up out of the ocean, she was still alive, still… _looking_ at him, though not with the eyes on her head.

"Unless you want to kill her while she's sleeping."

"Whoa!" Sonic gave the little fox a surprised look. "Of _course_ not, little buddy. That's _not_ the way we do things."

"Of course not, Sonic." Tails smiled faintly at him before looking back to his screen. "Just saying there's not much choice."

"Well, I guess you're right. Big, you're the strongest out of all of us, think you can hold onto her until Tails whips something up?"

The enormous cat cast a sideways glance at the oversized bucket by the door.

"Don't worry, Big." Amy sighed, squeezing Tails a little tighter. "I can cook the fish you caught while you hold her, alright?"

"Okay." Big nodded, standing up straighter with his mobian prisoner.

"Alright, I've got it. There should be enough parts to whip up a restraint harness and a holding facility. I'll just need an hour or so."

"Nice work, little buddy. Once she's all locked up we can try to find her some rings. Maybe they'll fix up whatever this thing's done to her."

"Or maybe they'll make it worse." Amy muttered darkly, her gloomy expression flicking towards him a moment before sliding back down to the floor.

Huh?

Sonic grimaced, looking out of the window at the cold landscape outside.

What the heck had _happened_ with everyone? Amy was usually the heart of the team with her optimism, and Tails would _never_ think about hurting anyone like that, even in the old days when Sonic hadn't kept the gentlehearted fox away from the fighting. And Sonic… he felt _dirty_ inside. Crawling inside his head, creeping through his veins like an itch he couldn't reach.

Zombies rising from the grave, who knew _how_ many monsters in the Lost Hex up above. And Knuckles and Shadow nowhere to be found. What had _happened_ to Shadow? Had the Zeti got him? Usually this was the point that _Eggman_ showed up to make everything worse-

A beep pinged up on the Miles Electric. Tails perked his ears in surprise, jabbing at the screen with vague suspicion.

"What's happening, little T?"

"We've… just found Knuckles." Tails glanced at him then back to the pad, a pout growing on his lips. "Or he's found himself."

"Uh oh. Where is he?"

"Says here that 'GUN' has just reported him emerging from the swamp of… Mystic Ruins Zone?"

"Home?" Big perked up. "Froggy?"

"Calm down, Big. Sonic will-"

"Froggy!" The giant cat tossed Rouge to the floor with a frantic yell and spun on his boot, smashing through the door in a blind dash, bucket's contents spilled all over the floor.

"Big! Wait!" Sonic's cry went unanswered. He almost slipped over as he stepped on a fish. A moment later a sputtering plane engine burst into life. Sonic zipped to the door just in time to see the _Tornado 2_ , smoke billowing from its engine, climbing into the sky.

Sonic looked back to the two mobians who still sat on the couch, blinking in surprise.

"You guys stay here and get to work on that holding cage." Sonic took a deep breath, striking a confident pose. "And better build it for two, because I'm coming back soon!

He raced out onto the snow.

* * *

Miles Prower was old.

Or, more correctly, Miles Prower was _young_ , and had been young for a very, very long time. Solely from what he could remember, or at least could remember forgetting, he had been trapped in Happy Days' prison of enforced bliss for two hundred years, and the time he had spent employing the time stones stretched to literally thousands of lifetimes. He had shadowed each and every one of his clones, and Doodle, from cradle to grave, bearing witness in penance for the terrible deeds he had made them commit on his behalf, and he had spent many times longer than that again in his timeless quest to save his friends and the world.

While only days had passed in the world outside of the Happy Days facility, Miles had lived through a period of time so long that even if he'd sent his friends to the Twilight Cage, where the ancient echidna had been imprisoned since four thousand years ago with barely a day passing for them within, they would still have died of old age by the time he'd finished.

"Are you quite done?" Cosmo looked away from him, arms folded as she bore his thoughtful stare.

"Sorry, Cosmo, but it would be _really_ helpful if you moved from where you were standing while I finish calculating."

A rain of leaves slapped against the side of his head, forming a thin layer around his helmet. The dryad scowled at him.

"I am no _fool_ , Miles Prower, to be misled by such trickery."

"Worth a shot. " Miles grinned, shrugging. "It's fine, I can finish up without you having to stand around, thanks."

Cosmo harrumphed, stomping away to sit on a cobweb encrusted seat, staring out of the window at the inky black darkness outside the subterranean cabin.

He'd come across a few of these now, deserted buildings either constructed below the earth for some unknown purpose or dragged below during the cataclysmic events that came before. Broken furniture lay strewn about the floor, somehow trapped in a state of endless disrepair mixed among a few intact specimens and storage chests, though all he'd found so far had contained dirt or already been empty. Mainly they represented a safe…ish place to stop and rest. Or think.

Discovering that he had been progressing through untold lifetimes beforehand, building up fake chaos emeralds time and time again, oversaturating his body with chaos energy as he sought to confront foes best handled by stronger, better people, this had been in many ways simply an _explanation_ for things he already knew. He was too damaged, too riddled with chaos energy to be normal, so tainted that even the Master Emerald, designed as it was to suppress and purify the Chaos Emeralds' power, could not make him whole. Even if he did grow, achingly slowly compared to his peers, the next iteration of the time loop would inevitably come sooner or later and he'd be ground down to almost nothing by the chaos overdose to start his life, such as it was, over again in mind and body.

And now, trapped in the digestive tract to end all digestive tracts, corrupted and reformed in a world where old age was as alien to its residents as it was to him, the dark powers that had shadowed him all these centuries had achieved something even the ancient echidna would have found impossible.

They had _fixed_ him.

Miles Prower was growing up.

No wonder Cosmo had seemed shorter. He couldn't perfectly calculate his height in the absence of a ruler or the ability to actually put a marking on anything that stayed longer than a few moments. But from rough estimations he'd easily gained a full two inches of height, a massive increase for a mobian, especially over a few short months, and not what one would commonly expect from someone who had lost quite so many bodyparts as he had recently.

Miles ate a mouthful of cake, sugar and fluff without substance, but a decent way to offset the numbing effect of the Hallow with the sugar rush.

Didn't do much to fix his fur though. He needed to find a sunflower.

At least he wasn't glowing.

No, wait, focus. The lack of chaos energy might explain why Skin had been happy to finish him off. Even if they spat him out, he wasn't _useful_ anymore, all that remained was _retirement_.

Funny how any other time this would have been _good_ news. _Important_ news. Miles snorted. He certainly didn't mind being useless to the monstrous existences that stalked him, and he'd wished to be older many times in the endless years he'd been alive. But…

No, didn't matter. He _would_ get out of here. He _would_ save the world. Miles struck a confident pose, his heart filled with a noble purity of purpose and boundless optimism.

Miles frowned, rubbing the back of his armoured head with a pink furred hand as a glowing bat hammered against the window.

… Yeah, he needed to get out of _here_ especially. And soon.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor warning for the folks following along as we go: I dun goofed and forgot to put up Chapter 35. It's now fixed and in the right place, so y'all might want to check it out, sorry about that.
> 
> I'd say management apologises for the inconvenience but that implies a whole level of competency that's missing from this ramshackle operation.

"I miss the hallow."

Miles swung the handle of the Whammer out, flaming wire slicing through thick vines that blocked his path.

"I miss the silence." Cosmo's foul retort came not a moment later as the dryad trudged after him.

"Well _I_ miss sensible footwear." He snapped back, hurling the hammer end out to smash through the body of a giant wasp twice his size. A second tug of the wire tore the insect's flaming abdomen in half, blazing chunks fizzling out in the soft mud. "And cake. This thing would go great with some cake."

He pulled out the infinity slice and took an experimental bite of the heart shaped golden fruit before chasing it with a mouthful of the sugary confection.

"Perfection." He mused in a spray of crumbs as a warm glow diffused across his body that hopefully wasn't _him_.

Cosmo rolled her eyes.

They'd entered this subterranean swampland a few hours ago, at least by his admittedly rough estimations. Apparently the local fauna had some resilience to corruption, or at least hallow brand corruption, and equally apparently the local flora was perfectly able to photosynthesise and grow in the complete absence of light, though Miles had provided plenty of that with his arrival, softly radiating from his fur or the distinctly non-local fauna growing behind him.

"You sure you're okay walking back there? I feel kinda bad."

"Bad enough to remove such foolish attire?" The dryad frowned at him, picking her way between glowing flowers that blazed in fiery colours, sending flickering light to dance off the plant encrusted walls of the the cave.

Miles glanced at his feet with a frown.

"I could go back to the way they were originally?"

"Nevermind." The dryad sighed, running her fingers across a burning flower. "This is fine."

After the loss of his leg to the rain, he'd been fairly excited to find a pair of boots discarded in an otherwise empty chest - something that hinted someone, probably the chosen, had passed through that way before. Less excited when he discovered that they looked _awful_ , but happy enough not to be stepping on pointy rocks, even holy pointy rocks.

Until he'd tried walking in them. His footprints had ignited behind him, a constant hazard for Cosmo trying to follow. Even when they had arrived in the muddy, damp, generally vile region they were now struggling through, the moisture had proved no impediment to the boots, while trying to actually do anything against the ridiculously hostile local critters with them had very nearly lost him another foot. Things had appeared to be looking up when he'd found a fresh pair of boots in the bottom of a giant subterranean tree, except they had been even uglier than the first pair, and just as impractical, providing a thick carpet of vegetation wherever he stepped. So he'd settled down to play cobbler, combining material from both pairs until he had something that looked less like they'd been vomited up by a punk rock garden gnome and his hippy wife, and rather than breaking their functions as he'd hoped, they'd simply combined into their current form, sprouting this thick carpet of luminous orange "lava plants" wherever he walked.

At least he didn't have to worry about getting turned around in here.

"You could walk next to me if you'd rather. Or in front?"

"I would sooner remain a healthy distance from both that weapon of yours and the denizens that seek you in this restless place." Cosmo shook her head, releasing a cloud of glowing cinders from the fiery plant with a faint smile. "As I said, Miles Prower, flowers do not bother me."

"I guess they'd take away your dryad license if they did." Miles slipped his clockwork gun out of hammerspace, sending a spray of improvised metal slugs into the skull of a massive tortoise. The wounds erupted into flame a moment later as superheated slime ignited across its flesh. It slumped to the wet dirt moments later, crumbling into chunks of keratin.

"You have no idea what you are doing, do you?"

"Rude." Miles shot the dryad a frown.

"Not that." She shook her head, illuminated by blazing petals as she walked closer. "The things you do in this place, the tools you employ in your ignorance-"

"Rude." Miles said again. Cosmo ignored him.

"All knowledge for the Chosen comes from the guide, Miles Prower. _You_ fumble with powers beyond your comprehension-" A burning leaf slapped across Miles' mouth as he went to speak up again. "Yet you _succeed_."

"Well-" Miles pulled the leaf from his mouth, pearlescent fur sizzling slightly from the heat. "I just try things until they work, I guess?" He rubbed the back of his head with a grin.

"And burn your fingers like a wayward sprout half the time, no doubt."

Miles stuck his tongue out at her, but the dryad's expression lacked its usual vitriol.

"Keep struggling, my villain." She smiled, extending her hand to the floor. Her bare toes pushed into the earth. The cavern rumbled around them. " _Understand_ this place."

"Whoa!" Miles grabbed the dryad for support as a world rending shriek rumbled through his bones. "Cosmo, what are you doing?!"

"I am _hurting_ you, Miles Prower." Cosmo's smile turned radiant indeed as a vine thicker than Miles was tall slammed into the wall beside them _through_ the ceiling above. She swept burning petals up in a beautiful kaleidoscope around her with a sweep of her hand. "Let us suffer my mistress's wrath together."

A seed as big as Miles slammed down from the ceiling, punching straight through the earth as he barely slipped to one side.

"You are a very weird girl, you know that?" Miles grabbed the dryad by the waist, forcibly uprooting her as an enormous pink flower, bigger than a house, swung like a wrecking ball down towards them from the ceiling.

Cosmo just grinned, light dancing in her eyes as she hurled burning leaves into the monster plant in a mighty wave.

Miles leapt, burning petals raising from his feet as he skated across mud, providing Cosmo with fresh material to work with even as he dodged a pair of snapping plant jaws.

The massive plant creature shrieked once more, firing one massive seed after the other in rapid succession as Miles focused entirely on evasion. The whole cave seemed to be burning within the dryad's scorching whirlwind, a giant green spider he hadn't even noticed igniting as it climbed the wall down to where they raced by. It never even reached the floor before it crumbled in on itself, legs smoking.

The only _downside_ was that he was running out of places to run. The plantastrophe was big enough with its vines and bulb to make squeezing past its bulk a risky proposition, especially with his grinning passenger, and only a nearly blind descent deeper into the caves remained as an alternative.

The bulb convulsed, expectorating a giant ball of burning thorns towards them that bounced unerringly towards them off every wall. Miles leapt, swinging Cosmo out in one hand as a counterweight to his hammer in the other, slamming it into the ball hard enough to send it crashing back into the giant flower with enough force to tear an enormous petal free. A thorny maw gaped within.

"Well done." Cosmo gasped as he pulled her back into his grip, body glistening with perspiration from the heat. "You have angered her greatly."

"She wasn't already angry?!"

The monstrous plant opened its jaws wide, tearing its remaining petals to shreds as it revealed a gaping pit of writhing pink tentacles within. Fresh vines with snapping jaws soared towards them, flakes of ash peeling from their surface as they weathered the firestorm. Miles leapt down to a subterranean pool, skimming backwards across the surface like a hydrofoil as huge fangs fish lunged up through the surface behind them. Another thornball bounced towards them, reflecting off a tree branch to tear through a curtain of choking vines. With no flowers growing while he skimmed across water, they soon slipped away from the light, leaving only Miles' soft pink glow and the flames of his spinning tails as Cosmo's fiery assault came to an end.

And then a fish bit Miles' tail.

It only lasted a moment, a brief interruption to his momentum before his tails shredded the creature as surely as if it had bitten a boat propeller, but it was enough for physics to rear its ugly head. Miles barely managed to yell in surprise before he dropped into the water like a stone. The dryad flew from his grip to hurtle out of sight. By the time he'd managed to drag his waterproof greenflame torch from his hammerspace Miles' world was already a flurry of gnashing teeth and flashing scales. Hinged jaws shrieked dully against metal, seeking gaps in his armour while he sought to find purchase on the body of fish more than twice his newly increased size, his lungs already starting to strain.

Where was the megaplant?

Keep fighting. He shoved his torch into the gullet of one crocofish, shoving back against a second as it ignited, tails coiling around to crush the life from a third. Shoving his armoured hand into the survivor's mouth he clamped his grip down on its tongue, hurling a grapnel into a nearby wall with the other. He emerged in a rush of water, swinging the fish in his grast up into the wall with an exhausted grunt, dangling a moment from the ceiling, panting for breath.

Where was the megaplant?

Miles grabbed another torch, sticking it against the ceiling with a globule of slime jelly as he peered around the eerily silent cavern, the deflowered subterranean swamp lay dark and still.

"... Cosmo?" Miles swung himself towards the edge of the blood tinted pool - at least some of which was his own. He sunk up to his knees in the soft earth. "...Have you fallen and can't get up?"

He dragged his boots free from the muck with a wet squelch, fiery petals blooming from the hole as he stumbled towards the ledge, where a thin stream of water drained from the pool into the darkness below.

"It is not your fault, Harbinger." Cosmo's voice echoed from the dark.

Miles jumped back as a massive claw clamped down around the spot he'd been standing. He caught his feet against a tree trunk and latched onto its branch, staring down at the plantastrophe dragging itself back from the depths.

" _You_ did not destroy my flower."

Blazing petals struck him from behind, erupting into burning flashes of heat that clung to his armour. Miles quickly threw himself back into the water, armour hissing on contact with the surface before grapnelling free once more. Water dripped from him as he split his gaze between the obvious threat of the plantastrophe and the hidden threat of the dryad's leaves.

The massive thorned head dragged itself over the edge, seeds slicing through the air past him as he dropped from the wall, tails spinning. The plant monster opened its thorned mouth to release another ear splitting shriek - and reveal Cosmo in its centre, tentacles coiled around each limb.

The dryad stared at him with empty eyes, a whirlwind of leaves forming around the monster.

"So you will be eaten gently."

Cosmo's face split into a broad grin as the plantastrophe surged forward.


	38. Chapter 38

Battles of attrition were not the mobian way.

At least - attrition on the _mobian_ wasn't the mobian way. Mobians were an ambush predator, striking hard, fast, withstanding a single hit or less from their prey, and then, in theory, the fight was won, they dragged their prey back with them to their cave, or they retreated, biding their time until their next opportunity to strike.

This tactic had survived for millennia. Ultimately, even Sonic's fundamental strategy used the core fundamentals, striking with brutal force at high speed before slipping away to his next target, using his momentum to effortlessly evade any counter as he charged through opposition in a state of endless blitzkrieg.

And this was why Miles was in trouble.

Because this was now most _definitely_ a battle of attrition.

Miles slammed into the ground to dodge a mortar seed, standing his ground to sweep the Whammer's tail in a wide arc, slicing through one of the giant hooks the plant monster used to navigate. Flame crept up the tentacle, helped along by five rounds rapid from his clockgun to a section where the blaze hopefully wouldn't spread into the mouth before dentropy extinguished it.

The plantastrophe was an enormous hulking leviathan. _Most_ of the creatures here were somewhere on the spectrum of "hulk", big, heavy hitters with powerful attacks and sturdy defences, and Miles, like most mobians, was _best_ at fighting hulks. Barring any unforeseen circumstances like ambushes, murder rain, things breaking physics in new and unexpected ways, or something hurling itself to its own death in his tails while he was trying to fly, Miles could determine the rhythm in its movements and react accordingly.

"You're doing very well, harbinger."

Cosmo was _not_ a hulk.

Miles swung again, slicing off a snapping vine before sending his hammer hurting at the plant's jaw. A wall of leaves formed in its way. He yanked back the weapon with a frown as the leaves leeched away its momentum. A mortar seed burst through the wall, sending burning leaves spinning. Miles leapt off away, twisting wildly around the burning petals that scorched after him as soon as they grew.

Cosmo was a _flak cannon_. She wasn't sturdy, she _didn't_ hit hard, but she simply saturated the area with damage. Minor, with mundane leaves alone, but constant, draining. And she turned every moment he landed against him. Even with his distinctly unmobian resilience and the madworld physics that let him rapidly recover from ridiculous amounts of damage, he couldn't help but get worn down as the battle raged on.

Worse, she was a flak cannon _inside_ a hulk, and a flak cannon he _didn't_ want to shoot in the rare windows of opportunity between snapping jaws and writhing, regenerative tentacles.

Miles winced as a leaf slipped into a seam in his armour, pulling a bucket of honey from his pack to dump over the wound, dousing the flames as they began. Various cuts and burns itched as the honey started to apply its strange regenerative effects, and he scooped up the remainder in midair, leaving only a few droplets to dissipate into nothing as his bucket refilled.

"You would have made a wonderful champion."

Worst of all, Cosmo wouldn't stop _talking_.

Tiny floating seeds punctuated each word, popped out rapidfire from the plant's thorny surface. Miles kept flying, returning that fire as best he could through a stinging wall of plantlife that had long since stained his armour black and green despite madworld's insistence. He retorted by extending his unarmoured hand, a screaming skull wreathed in diabolical purple flame launching from his palm. The leaves shrivelled away as they tried to bar its passage, leaving a decaying black spot against the side of the plantastrophe and Miles' mojo painfully dry.

"But there are so _many_ children like you, harbinger."

Miles snorted between blows, looping razor wire around two tentacles at once. Ancient? Terrible? He heaved, slicing cleanly through both before leaping away.

"Lonely."

Cosmo stretched bloodstained arms out, dangling from the tentacles piercing her like a mangled marionette, heedless of Miles raining bullets down around her from a higher ledge.

"With nobody like _them_. Needing somewhere to _belong_."

A stray slug sliced past her head as the plant twisted unexpectedly, sending petals tumbling from the side of her head. Miles winced on her behalf as the bullet impacted the back of the plant's "throat", scorching her back.

"They find _belonging_ with me, harbinger."

A seed pulverised the wall at Miles' feet. He leapt into a bare tree, whose leaves had already been used as shurikens against him.

"As can you."

Miles frowned, leaping to grab onto a higher ledge, keeping his feet clear as he flipped up into the air. Pushed back as he was by the relentless wall of leaves and the constant approach of the heavily damaged plant monster, Miles was swiftly starting to have the opposite problem he'd had before he'd lost Cosmo - namely that he was running out of room in the opposite direction. The tight tunnels he'd carved between neighbouring cave networks up ahead were no barrier to the monster _or_ Cosmo, while he'd be a sitting duck the moment he entered.

"Then why don't you run away, harbinger? Or simply shoot her?" Cosmo shrugged. "You yourself know you could do either."

Great. And she was reading at very least his surface thoughts, possibly even his second level processing. At least she wasn't doing more with that knowledge than taunting him.

"You cannot save her, harbinger. She is dead many times over. She is the last of her kind and she is part of something so much more." Cosmo laughed, head dragged up by its leafy braid. "And she is _begging_ you to shoot, to take her life and slay me. A temporary inconvenience for us both."

Miles grunted in response, slipping out his clockgun and loosing a salvo of slugs into its open mouth. A thick vine curled up in the bullets' path, shrugging off the incendiary rounds almost unscathed.

"You missed, harbinger." Cosmo grinned, head lolling to the side as regenerated vines erupted into the earth beside him, a salvo of rapidfire seeds spraying out from its jaws.

Miles launched to the side, but with a sweep of a slender hand they changed direction midflight, smashing into him one after the other, leaving deep dents in his armour and one crashing into the open face of his helmet.

" _I_ did not, however." Cosmo's face smiled as Miles dropped back to the floor, spitting a broken tooth and a mouthful of blood across the plants.

"Fine." Miles weaved to his feet, squaring his stance against a storm of leaves that rained down upon him. He ducked a mortar seed without moving his legs, watching grimly as the plant bore ever closer. "I'll do what she wants."

His mojo refilled, and Miles raised his hand, screaming skull blasting forth once more, straight towards the dryad. Leaves and vines alike congregated to try and block the noisy projectile.

Miles raised his other hand, grinning as blood trickled down his chin.

"She said we should suffer together."

He fired his grapnel. Cosmo let out a pained cry as the glowing hook slammed into her chest. Miles barely missed his own projectile as he hurtled into the creature's gaping maw, a bucket phasing into his free hand mid-flight, burning petals streaking after him from the flowers he left behind.

Impact. Miles slammed into the dryad, sticky contents of the bucket splattering the thorny interior behind her. He wrapped legs and tails around her body, latching himself fast to her as tentacles lanced out, slicing through his armour with ease. His arms were pulled out to his sides as Cosmo leaned close, his glowing form reflected in her eyes.

"You _are_ an interesting one, harbinger." She smiled as a tentacle coiled around his throat.

"I'm-" Miles coughed, blood spattering her face. "-glad you think so."

He strained his arms against the tentacles gripping him, damaged hands slow in responding.

"She said - _hck_ \- something about... my fingers too." His smile echoed hers as two torches, one green and one normal, appeared in his fingers.

The dryad's eyes widened.

He dropped them into the slime coated maw as the flaming skull and petals exploded into him from behind.

A blazing fireball of three simultaneous types of flame - four, when he swept a tail behind Cosmo's back - ignited the flammable interior in a blinding conflagration. Miles screamed as even his armour warped from the heat, pink fur shrivelling to black.

And his arms were free, tentacles burnt away at the base. He launched his grapnel out behind him just before the plant's jaws snapped shut, tearing free with his prize still clasped in his burning grip.

Miles slammed into mud, skidding to a halt in a streak of fire flowers ten meters long. He dumped a bucket of honey over them both before rolling away from the dryad, sparks of green flame still smoking undeterred on his significantly diminished tail fluff. The plantastrophe loomed over him from within a technicolour inferno. A hook slammed into the ground beside him, but crumbled to ash at the base as it tried to drag itself forward.

Miles turned away as the monster collapsed, gulping down a bottle of honey/potion blend with a shudder as he scrambled back through the lava flowers, his burns stinging painfully every time he brushed against one of the glowing plants.

Cosmo let out a shuddering breath as he approached, desiccated vine tentacles still dangling from her arms and neck, blackened body shuddering from the destructive heat he hadn't quite managed to shield her from. Blue eyes stared unblinkingly up at him.

"You-" Her words were interrupted as Miles upended two open potion bottles into her mouth. Her body convulsed as burnt flesh fell away, a swirl of crimson and yellow erupting back out of her mouth a moment later as she retched, scorched tissues mingling in a pool beside her as she rolled onto her side, shuddering.

"Huh. Guess you really can't stack these things." Miles tossed the bottles back into hammerspace as Cosmo glared at him.

"Why did you do that?" She raised a hand, allowing the fox to help her to a sitting position, still shuddering.

"Well I can't actually physically induce myself to consume-"

"You could have just let the skull strike."

"Oh. That." Miles rubbed the back of his head, feeling fur where the metal had twisted. "I guess I- ah!"

The dryad lunged at him, arms wrapping around his neck. Miles fell back to the earth with a pained yelp.

"That was _wonderful_." Lips pressed against the charred skin of his cheek. "Well _done_."

"I- I- uh- I- Agh!" Miles wrenched the dryad off him with his tails, clutching the fresh hole in his flesh in surprise.

"A little _gift_ , harbinger." Cosmo winked at him, dangling from his grasp without struggle. "I can see why she liked you so much."

Cosmo went limp in his grasp. The next words whispered from his own lips.

"The touch of my grandfather is upon you, harbinger. But when you wish to belong?" His face contorted into a smile. "Cry out for me."

The presence left, Miles slumped down with an exhausted sigh, dropping Cosmo into the flowers alongside him. Her eyes fluttered open, fixing him with a weary gaze.

"Hey." He waved a furless hand.

"What did she say to you?"

"Nothing." Miles shrugged. "Hey, Cosmo?"

"Yes?"

"Never do that again."

Cosmo smiled. "As you-"

A poisonous stinger slammed into the dirt between them.

"Aw come on, _already_?" Miles forced himself to his feet with a groan. "I _hate_ this place."


	39. Chapter 39

My greatest fear for as long as I can remember has been of losing control.

How could it not be? I imagine every abnormal must suffer this revelation sooner or later, the realisation that they are surrounded by fragile, immaterial things and the need for endless restraint to preserve them, but I have known the exact force necessary to crush a baseline mobian's skull since I was four years old... Or _whatever_ age correlates with my previously immortal existence. Heck, not just known, it's _ingrained_ in my muscle memory, and it is _considerably_ less than the force necessary to destroy your average badnik, and far less than I can apply at any given moment with a swipe of my tails. This is to say nothing of a chaos state, fuelled by the powers of the Chaos Emeralds, flooded with endless amounts of chaos energy and trying with every moment not to put a hole in the floor while you walk. A chaos state has allowed Sonic to handle physical gods and otherworldly horrors that even the strongest abnormal would otherwise struggle against… And I suppose I have too, if the records of the catacombs are to be believed.

And even this is still trivial compared to my _greatest_ weapon. It wasn't my body that wiped out the kukku after all, even with six Chaos Emeralds in my grasp, but my inventions. Sonic is one of the mightiest heroes the world has ever seen, and he has faced off against the greatest threats with mindboggling ease. But even the most _deadly_ of these extradimensional threats has been immaterial to what technology has accomplished, and a grain of sand on a beach compared to what it _could_ accomplish.

For all his evil and madness, even Robotnik has shown incredible restraint against the world at large, a gentleman's agreement between us, for the moment we step too far the world is not ruined, it is _dust_ , leaving us to continue our squabbles among the stars. A machine built right can harness chaos more efficiently than any mobian, and even without it simple _chemistry_ could extinct all life with the right push, so how could my greatest concern not be in constraining this at any given moment? In restricting my activities and thoughts alike to avoid that slippery slope to oblivion?

But Madworld invades these innermost thoughts of mine, twists feelings I've long sought to intellectualise into being unbidden, tempts me constantly to _give in_ , to surrender the control I've valued for so long. Shupnikkurat's offer - whether to become a creature of the crimson or some pactbound thing like Cosmo - is more of the same, and I'm ashamed to say it's a tempting one. What better way for a thing such as I to remain in control than to surrender that control to a higher power? As a mindless abomination the damage I can do is likely restrained to double digits at the most, as a servant like Cosmo, rigidly enslaved into a strict role in service of the chosen and defence of my own life? I am absolved of responsibility, a passive observer of successes and failures over which I have no control, no duty to resolve. A child, under the eternal gaze of the watchful parent I have never had.

What greater temptation could there be for an ancient horror like me than a little peace? What use is self reliance, self control, or even _reason_ when the truth is unbearable? When all our struggles for safety and goodness are meaningless in the face of vast cosmic indifference, where we are prey to entities so far beyond us that we are beneath even their malice, what meaning is left?

I have never considered myself a hero, but I've _tried_ to be like one. Sonic never needed to _make_ the decisions I've had to make, never needed to sacrifice the things I've sacrificed, and I used to think this was because he was strong enough to prevent things from falling so far in the first place, or to find options that someone like me could never reach… But hearing myself talk about his failures, his deaths, over and over in the records of this place has robbed me of even that sense of security. Weight of evidence leads me to conclude that Sonic, as strong as he is, as determined as he is, is simply _lucky_ , that he, like every hero, will eventually face some impossible choice for which there is _no_ third option, some deadly threat that no hand is waiting to reach out and save him from and his refusal to compromise or change, his greatest strengths, will become his inevitable downfall.

And as I reach that conclusion, here in the underswamp, with the pull of the hallow in my bones that pushes me to constantly reject it, to seek out some intangible "noble purpose", I am forced to realise that this thought comes not from outside influences but from the depths of my own mind. Cosmo has made me her villain, and the madness that entails makes a dreadful sense in this backwards place. Should I reject control altogether? Should I embrace every mad whim? She tells me that the death of the plantastrophe has _doubled_ the time remaining for my world, as the power of nature to resist the corruption has been unleashed. But what if I were to simply make the world equally inhospitable for _all_ the powers therein? Lava is in infinite supply, after all, and the ash of the underworld held a certain purity of its own. How much longer might that extend my deadline?

Well, I remain hopeful for an alternative that isn't literally drowning the planet in an ocean of lava. I mean, it's not very efficient, and that's not going to do anything about the rocks, right? Maybe if I made the lava _hotter_ somehow, it could melt the rock too. Hm…

Yeah, went to a dark place there. Might be because I'm stuck down here in the underswamp. The ravages of this place's savage denizens is as relentless as ever, despite the death of its guardian, and my hatred of turtles exceeds that of even the most beleaguered plumber. "Not the bees" has likewise become a commonplace utterance in the face of their merciless onslaught. Yes, a little lava would seriously be an improvement, and it keeps trying to _grow on me_. Ugh. Bad enough with Shupnikkurat's "gift" sprouting from my fur, I've lost track of the number of seeds, spores, weeds, and various noxious growths that I've picked up - more to get them off me than any particular desire to spread this awful place.

Heh. At least Cosmo seems to like it here though, she's been in a good mood for what I'm estimating is all day, even if she is currently yelling at me for playing with my new toy. I'm hopeful, given the progress we've made and her newfound willingness to let me carry her - at least across gaps she can't cross herself - that we'll reach the surface soon and I'll be able to once more use the bone glove without having to worry about accidentally directing Yorick, and the portal it holds, down into some lost cavern, or worse, into the depths of a lava pit. I'd rather not have to clean _that_ up when I get home.

Speaking of which, hopefully enough time's passed that the team's managed to come together. I desperately need to talk to Knuckles, figure out whether that fox is a robot clone or who I think she is, and... start making contingency plans with Sonic in case I'm too late.


	40. Chapter 40

The Mystic Ruins were already gone.

Red tinted ice bobbed atop tainted water, trees reduced to dull greys, jagged branches jutting out of snow and _meat_. Crimson "stone", warm to the touch, jutted from the earth, tough, but the hardness of gristle, not rock. Like the world itself had formed cancerous blisters.

Sonic settled upon the largest pustule, gazing down at a wrecked biplane with a frown, listening to the quiet rustle of wildlife - whatever kind of wildlife that may be - in the alien landscape surrounding him.

There was no sign of Big, only a warning beep from the Tornado 2's dash as the tortured vehicle sparked into the meltwater surrounding it. Large red fish swam in the shallows around the plane, large teeth jutting out of mouths two sizes too small for them, disproportional fins fluttering against the current.

There was no sign of Knuckles, either.

Sonic leapt down onto the plane's wing, hopping again into the cockpit as it cracked beneath his weight, splitting into halves that tilted into the water on either side with a metallic shriek of protest.

"... Sorry, Tails." Sonic sighed.

Kid _loved_ his planes, rarely stopped thinking about them.

Well... he liked _fixing_ things too, so maybe this would be fine? Sonic glanced up at the pustule where he'd jumped from. Hidden from view from his previous vantage point, now he could see this particular blister was _hollow_ , a slow trickle of water descended into a shadowy hole down into its depths. Pale white spikes that resembled bone... Or _teeth_ , lined the floor and ceiling, and a warm gust of air blew rhythmically out over him from within like the breath of some giant beast.

Creepy.

Well if _he_ was a giant evil monster Knuckles then that gross flesh cave looked like the kind of place he'd hang out. And Big… Well Big would go anywhere he thought Froggy was. Could he have wandered in as well? Be fighting against Knucklezilla even now?

A giant spider, its bulbous body made of flesh and jutting shards of bone, crawled out from between the trees, splashing into the water without hesitation as it approached Sonic with single minded hostility.

"Be right with ya, big guy." Sonic bent into the plane, opening the glove compartment to pull out a flashlight and a box of flares. The fuselage shifted as the spider crawled up into it, rearing up to strike.

It exploded as Sonic launched out through it, splashing into the water where he ducked into a crouch, locking himself in place with a hand as he spun the rest of his body over on itself, turning into a stationary sawblade as monster fish converged on him, tearing themselves apart against his whirling spines.

Like robots. No sense of self preservation, just attack, attack, attack. Sonic released his grip, pushing off the ground to let the momentum of his spin release without propelling him uncontrollably into the dark. He'd _suffered_ last time he'd faced off against Knuckles without a light, and the last thing he needed was to drop in a pit of bone spikes. There'd be no Tails to carry him out this time.

Popping off a flare, Sonic pressed it into a crack in the meaty wall of the cave entrance, sending blue light to cast long flickering shadows up the walls of the cave. These things burned for about an hour, should be plenty of time to check out a cave network and find his way back to the surface.

Flicking on his flashlight Sonic jogged into the depths.

* * *

A girl shivered in the dark, body stained with mud and torn from too long underground, too long at the mercy of the monsters that lived there, clinging to the motionless form beside her for when she would be forced from this hiding spot to the next.

The flickering glow of firelight reached deep sunken brown eyes. The girl looked at it mutely, tears momentarily stilled into terror as a hulking shape loomed above, an enormous spider ten times her size. The glow came from its own body, engulfed in flames yet still moving, legs still twitching as it tried to reach venom soaked mandibles in to reach the girl, scrabbling at the dirt.

The girl hunched over with a shriek, hands over her aching head.

A gunshot rang out, the spider's head exploded into a flash of fire. Chunks fell down over her, and the girl was engulfed in darkness and silence once more, blinking in weary confusion at the shapes still superimposed on her vision from the light.

And a moment later the silence was broken once more, this time with a wail of music playing a triumphant tune.

"Must you do that with _every_ foe you best?" A voice, quiet monotone, muttered as a gentle orange light shone from somewhere beyond the girl's limited field of vision..

"If your boss didn't want me to rock out then why did she give me an electric guitar?" A cheerful voice countered, tugging at strands deep inside the girl's brain that were long gone, severed.

The first speaker sighed as the pair walked past the girl's hiding place, the light now bright enough for her to see by. A shining knight, walking among a field of flowers, a blazing guitar held in his grasp, and his flower princess, sighing with a hand to her forehead.

"You know, you could make requests if you don't like the song, Cosmo." The knight kept playing as he walked, switching to a strangely familiar tune about sunshine and rain.

Both were _scary_. But the girl crept from her hiding place all the same, entranced by the light she'd left behind, staying low in the flowers as she crept after the pair, torn between the dark of safety and that dangerous lure.

"Do you even _know_ any of the songs I would?"

"Fair point. Genre?"

"Bluevine? Toproot?"

"...Infected mushroom?"

"What?"

"Okay, this isn't going to work. How about you sing-" The knight whirled around, rifle firing to the rhythm of his song.

The girl yelped, throwing herself down into the mud as blazing projectiles seared overhead. Burning sap sprayed her head and ears.

"Hey, you see something over there?"

The girl froze, filthy hands stuffed into her mouth to keep quiet.

" _More_ coffee? One would have thought the bucket you have sequestered to be enough for anyone."

"Hey, I have _infinite_ cake to go with it, you know."

Leaves rustled around her, and the girl pushed herself lower. Be still, be dirt, be _small_. Don't die again.

"Why hello there, little bunny." There was a metallic clank close by. _Too_ close by.

The girl looked up, trembling before the knight sat beside her, his gleaming armour sparkling in the warm glow of flowerlight.

"Can you talk?" He put his helmet down, revealing soft fur of gleaming white and pastel pink, orbs of solid blue gazing gently down at her, blazing with an inner light all their own. "Is your head okay?"

"Y…" The girl's voice faded again, dulled from disuse, broken like her brain. She blinked up at the knight. "You're… beautiful."

"Why thank you." The fox smiled, laying his rifle atop his helm. A pink furred hand reached out to touch her cheek, two gleaming tails swirling behind him.

Two tails…

"You came to kill me?" The girl tilted her head up at him.

He flinched. And the girl knew it was true. She sighed, glancing from the knight to the princess who loomed behind him, a disapproving look on her face.

"I don't kill rab-" The fox rubbed the back of his head. "Uhh… Okay, look, I have a _really_ bad track record with rabbits, and I'm not sure I can save _anyone_ , but I'd _really_ like to try and help you, okay?"

The fox extended that pink hand to her. That glowing blue gaze almost hurt to look at.

"You… help?"

"Absolutely." He smiled again. "I'll give you something to fix that up, and we'll get you out of here, okay? What's your name?"

The girl grabbed his hand and pulled, feet slipping on the mud.

"Help me. Help _me_!"

And the fox followed, bending forward to let her lead him to her hole.

"I won't wake up." She slumped at the opening of her hiding place, blinking up at the knight.

And the fox looked at her sadly, pulling her _other_ body from the hole to lay out among the flowers.

"Ah." He breathed softly as he looked down at her, brushing his hand across other her's cheek.

"Is she dead?" The flower princess peered down, sweeping her hands in a lovely dance that brought the flowers with it. A giant bat fell to the floor in flames.

"Broken." The fox knight shook his head. "Like the furniture. Hurt bad enough when she got here that she's stuck halfway."

"A grim fate." The princess turned away. "You cannot mend what is unmendable, and I cannot help you. Shall we go?"

"Sorry." A hand laid on the girl's shoulder.

She blinked up at those sad blue eyes, tears welling in her own.

"I'm going to need you to do something for me, alright?"

"Help?" The girl twitched an ear as he put his hand against her cheek, fingers resting gently against the dent in her skull.

The knight nodded, holding up a bottle of gold.

"I'm going to make you both better. And if… when I fall down, you need to make me drink this as soon as you can, alright?"

"What are you _planning_ , Miles Prower?"

"Nothing _you_ can help me with." The fox put his hand on the girl's head. "So you think you can do that?"

The girl nodded. "P… promise."

"Good girl." He smiled. "Now bear with me. I've never done this before."

The fox took off his solitary green glove, reaching to place his second hand on the other her.

One eye shone blinding pink.

And Sept screamed.

Everything was _backwards_ , terror, pain, rain, sun, she thought thoughts unthought for reasons never happened. All she was became unravelled, shredded, inspected and rearranged until nothing was left, until nothing _ever_ was.

And then he put her back together again.

Miles Prower, the reason for her existence four times over, collapsed on the ground, glowing eyes burnt out black hollows, smoke drifting from his mouth. Sept blinked dazedly at him.

What had happened?

Where was she?

A sharp hand slapped her hard across the cheek, an unfamiliar, unmobian face curled in rage thrust up in her own.

"Honour your _oath_ , child." The plant maiden snarled, a finger stabbing towards the fallen fox.

She looked down at her hands, clutched around a bottle of gold. Did he… need it? She stumbled forward, sitting upon his breastplate to pour the bottle into his open jaw.

Nothing.

Sept stared in confused horror at her fallen… saviour? Killer? What had _happened_? She was on the _ship_ …

Miles bolted upright, black sludge erupting from his mouth and nose, tears carrying soot from the surface of glowing blue orbs before he fell to the side once more, convulsing as he tried to breathe, cough and vomit all at once. Sept reached out, hugging his head in her tiny arms, whimpering in confused terror…

He breathed. A shuddering, painful inhalation, blue eyes "focusing" once more, slightly brighter at the point he was looking.

At the startled rabbit staring at him from beyond the grave.

"Hey, Cream." Miles smiled sadly, cheeks stained black with ashes of himself. "Long time no see."

And then he fell limp in Sept's grasp.


	41. Chapter 41

Miles opened his eyes to pain and sunshine.

Both were surprising. Injuries typically didn't last long in Madworld's constant state of reversion, and sunlight meant that he'd somehow left the abyss the two of them had wandered for days. Cosmo wouldn't have-

His brain caught up only a moment after his eyes did, the pale fur with orange markings, slightly longer than the original, slightly fluffier, gazing up at a glowing yellow sunflower with tears in her eyes.

 _His_ Cream. His partner in Happy Days, last of an unbroken chain of Creams sacrificed to keep him company, a companion through the centuries, slowly growing closer, more dependent on her company...

And then he'd all but killed her to escape.

And then he'd killed her Mama.

"I still hate you, Mister Tails." Cream murmured, not looking away from the flower.

"I know." Miles nodded with a sigh, heaving to a sitting position to see rolling turquoise hills stretching out into the distance, rainbow colours painting the landscape in both trees of vibrant colours and the genuine article arching overhead. Glowing fairies with gossamer wings fluttered across the hillside, and a terran horse with a single spiral horn on its forehead traversed the terrain in a graceful gallop.

"Were you two the only survivors? How did you-"

"I don't even remember landing." The rabbit shrugged.

… Huh. That made sense. He'd paradoxed her into a past version that hadn't been injured in the first place, after all.

"Miss Cosmo said you nearly killed yourself saving us."

Hm. Yeah, whoops. Probably _shouldn't_ have entrusted his life to a rabbit kit that was about to forget everything he told her. Good thing she'd figured it out somehow.

"And she told me to call you a 'rapacious fool' when you woke up."

Miles snorted. A fine quality for a villain.

"Well, she hates me too." He shrugged. "Where is she, anyway?"

Cream jerked a thumb over her shoulder, Miles peered through what looked to be a dozen sunflowers, poking from the muddy swamp grass as merrily and easily as anywhere else, to a hut suspended on bamboo stilts above the muck, constructed out of the same worked stone as the city, impossibly supported atop those slender poles. Trees and greenery sprouted from a living roof overhead.

And beyond the sunflowers stretched that alien world of purple and decay, a trail of burning flowers marking the path of their escape across blighted grass and through tainted river from a distant cave.

They were on an island of green, trapped between horrid putrefaction and halcyon perfection. One side hard up against the sunflowers, the other a natural border where mud and vine gave way to a bed of wildflowers. Odd how-

"She wouldn't let me leave you." Cream interrupted his thought half formed.

"She needs me to destroy the world for her." Miles shrugged.

"You're good at that."

Miles flinched.

"I missed you, Bunny."

Cream flinched back.

"I know you hate me." Miles sighed, rebelling against the forced happiness that brought back memories of warm sunshine and cosy afternoons and endless hours spent with the girl at his side to focus instead on the aching sense of _loss_ he'd felt when he'd torn free of that cosy prison. "But... I'm glad you're around to keep hating me."

"You killed Mama," Cream replied flatly. "She told me you would."

"We planned it that way, after all." Miles shrugged, plopping dirt on the floor to form a makeshift chair to rest his back against.

"What?" Cream glared at him.

Miles nodded.

"Funny how time travel works, huh? In the end _everything_ was my fault. I _made_ Mama, I made you, _all_ of you. All the children in Happy Days."

"... Why?"

"Because someone had to." Miles grinned. "And I realised if _I_ did it… I could save the world. I sacrificed you hundreds of times, over. I sacrificed thousands of children. I did it so the original Cream could see _her_ Mama again, and I killed _your_ Mama to do it."

His grin faded despite his best attempts and the field of flowers around him.

"So yeah. I killed a whole lot of people, including everybody I care about, and if you're going to hate me you might as well hate me properly because I've hated myself longer and worse than you ever could."

Miles wiped an orange furred hand across his cheek, staring out across tainted hills to where an oily slime creature launched itself towards them at a leisurely rate.

"Thank you."

"Huh?" Miles tilted an ear in surprise.

"For not calling her the _real_ Cream." Cream slumped forward, fiddling with the orange tips of her ears.

"She's _not_ the real Cream." Miles caught her look. "Not like that. I mean _you're_ real too. All of you."

"I _am_ all of me." Cream didn't look at him.

"And you are… were the one that was my friend. Not her."

"... You're not a very good friend, Mister Tails. I think I see why Miss Cosmo calls you a villain."

Miles chuckled mirthlessly. "I'm good at that."

"I don't think so."

"No?" Miles pulled his guitar into his hands, swinging it into the slime with a tonal wail. It splattered across the ground in pieces.

"Aren't villains supposed to do things to make _themselves_ happy?"

"You got me there." Miles sliced the guitar through the slime's smaller chunks as they hurled themselves at him one after another, reducing them to formless mush without bothering to stand. "I guess I'm just an idiot then, cause I did the opposite."

" _Were_ you happy?"

"With you?"

Cream quirked her head slightly.

"...Yeah." Miles rubbed the back of his head. "Guess I was."

She nodded. "I hate you for taking that away from me." She stared at the flower above her with a sigh. "But I don't hate this."

"It feels the same, doesn't it?" Miles whispered. "Just… in a flower."

"Not just that." Cream stood with a sigh. "I'm going inside. I was only out here to keep everyone safe from any monsters that showed up."

"Why am _I_ out here then?" Miles raised an eyebrow.

"What do you think I was using to hit them?" Cream smiled sweetly. "My own flaming club. It was very therapeutic."

Miles gaped at her. No wonder he ached.

"You used to be so sweet."

"And _you_ used to bully me for it." Cream turned her nose up at him and turned away. "Your stuff is over there by that rock. Don't take too long, Miss Cosmo probably wants to yell at you now you're awake."

Miles nodded with an absent frown. She couldn't have just used his rifle? Or a rock? Or-

"Oh, Mister Tails?"

"Huh?"

"I'm glad you're still around to hate. Thank you."

"Anytime." Miles waved, putting on a bright smile as she slipped inside.

Then he placed his head on his knees, wrapped his arms around his tails and silently shed as many tears as the flowers would let him.


	42. Chapter 42

"Is there anything else I can do, Tails?"

Amy hovered nearby with a pensive frown on her face, dark ringed eyes heavy with fatigue and forgotten horror.

"It's-" Reason caught herself. Amy preferred to be active and useful, especially when she was feeling the opposite. Better to keep her occupied than stewing in her own nightmares. "-Getting late. Why don't you cook up those fish Big caught? I'm almost done here."

She rubbed the bare fur of her stomach with a grin. Wearing her dead daughter's shoes and gloves and nothing else. Could still feel the blood she'd rinsed away.

The Sept in her was screaming,

Amy looked startled, but nodded all the same.

"Surprised to see you hungry for anything but mints."

Whoops. "Well I don't want them stinking up my lab." She popped a screw between her lips as she affixed another metal cuff onto the stranger she was building into a metal tomb. "And that cat probably won't like us wasting them."

"Oh, he'll be _real_ happy we ate them on him I'm sure." Amy winked, a ghost of her old self returned. "Alright, I'll be back in a bit. Any preferences?"

"Hot protein?"

" _That's_ the Tails I know." Amy smirked, turning away. "Call me if you need me, _especially_ if she starts waking up." She cast a meaningful look at the "bat".

Reason nodded. With the cocktail of drugs she'd given the creature, if it woke up any time in the next six hours it would be a miracle, and a double miracle if that was without enough brain damage to make all this security redundant. She glanced at the portal, placed surreptitiously on Miles' desk, where the periodically changing light and occasional sound would do little to attract unwanted attention from curious hedgehogs amidst the tablet computer and monitor she'd left on for camouflage.

"How is it?"

Reason startled, glancing up to see Amy standing beside her once more, green eyes wide.

"How is what? I thought you were cooking?"

"Stove's heating up." Amy shrugged. "And the portal, of course. Silly me, have we seen him?"

"Ah, we already knew?" Reason relaxed with great effort.

"I do _not_ sleep." Amy nodded, a dreamy smile spreading on her lips. "Caution is understandable, but don't worry, little me. I am _always_ listening."

"That saves time." Reason nodded, stomach churning. "I have not seen him yet. There is fresh movement, however. Is our course of action set?"

"We must recover him." Amy nodded. "Make the final adjustments to the containment unit, then I will assist you with calculations. Confirm when he is seen."

"We know." Reason turned back to her task, mind racing. "What if he shares the bat's infection?"

There was no response. When she glanced back the hedgehog was nowhere to be seen, pans clattering in the kitchen.

Reason grimaced, slipping a flexible band of gold and circuitry from her glove and ravelling it around her finger. She tapped it against her thigh with an alternating rhythm while she worked.

This wasn't an _insurmountable_ problem. Amy was far _older_ , and far from weak thanks to her absolute dedication to self improvement. The Doodle within had none of her host's hesitation either, as evidenced by her casual murder of Amy's best friend thirteen times over. But despite the comparative rarity of female abnormals, Reason's own genetics were artificial. Not only did she feature most of Miles' own natural physical and mental faculties, but several of Cream's as well - primarily ones that increased stability; Doubling up chromosomes might guarantee an abnormal, but they also had a way of causing otherwise benign traits to manifest with a vengeance.

For her age, Reason was a powerhouse, and her tails were an absolute advantage in close quarters that could offset the power gap if she could get close. If she was willing to more than likely kill Amy in the process. Mobians weren't built to get injured, after all, and Doodle likely wouldn't hesitate to break her own body if push came to shove.

… Was she willing to kill Doodle?

Reason's frown deepened as she wired up the containment unit to the lab's power supply, a fourth line of defence against an unknown threat.

She _was_ Doodle. She was Doodle's youngest daughter, she was once every single thought that was running through that chip. Doodle was _her_ daughter, who she'd nurtured and cared for over centuries. She _had_ killed her children, her sisters, but could Reason say better? She had _been_ the person who killed children without hesitation, she had been the willing accomplice as she watched generation after generation of Creams die of old age trapped in Happy Days, and willingly engineered Miles' worst nightmares, shamelessly embellishing every part to make him suffer _more_.

And she had brought a pretty little hedgehog girl to have someone else's mind stuck in her brain. The blame stretched back centuries, with the original cause being so inextricably woven into so many different levels that assigning it was all but impossible. Doodle had lurked invisibly alongside Miles since she'd left Little Planet, never causing any problems, only now was she operating on necessary compromises and acceptable losses that had only ceased to be necessary and acceptable for Reason because the things being sacrificed had been _hers_.

Reason sighed. She wasn't used to having her _own_ problems to worry about.

Pulling the band off her finger she stepped towards the golden ring that showed another world through its centre. She pressed one end of the metal strip against the ring, clipping it in place before throwing the other end through the portal and stepping back just as quickly, glancing to the door that led to the kitchen area.

Safe. Amy could be heard humming an achingly familiar song from within. Had Miles picked it up from her? Vice versa? Was it Doodle who hummed it to Miles or Doodle who hummed it right now? Time travel, as Miles put it, really _was_ the worst. Everything about her existence was a confusing web of time and dead people still walking around.

At least her message would be camouflaged on this end, and the trailing end hopefully wouldn't get caught on anything sturdy enough to pull it free before she had filled in Miles on the other end about what was happening here - with a few careful exceptions. If she could figure out a way to get him out _safely_ , perhaps Doodle could be convinced that stability was a reasonable secondary objective.

"Tea?" Amy poked her head out of the kitchen, normal, smiling.

"Please." Reason smiled.

But… What about her? Did _she_ represent an instability for Doodle to remove? Was she Doodle enough to live? _Miles_ enough to live?

… What would Miles do?

Reason tugged on her ears with a silent groan.

Maybe she should have asked him after all.


	43. Chapter 43

Miles sighed, sat atop the grassy roof with a golden ribbon in his hands, surrounded by the tools and materials he'd accumulated scattered among the weeds in organised clutter, and bathed in the candyfloss pink glow of the full moon.

He wasn't going to spend time sleeping if he didn't have to, after all, and this was as close to a literal truth as one could imagine in madworld. The dull ache of sleeplessness never left, and never worsened. And, most importantly, never stopped him from thinking.

_Don't sleep._

He shivered, nothing to do with the temperature. _That_ didn't change much without convection.

The howling wasn't helping. Furry giants aligning themselves with flying laser snails and loogie hawking eye monsters alike, achieving little more than throwing themselves to their deaths now his _gift_ had grown in. Flecks of green sprouted from his fluffy cheeks, swaying with a lazy movement all their own as they conducted floating spore clouds to rise from every surface.

Even the sunflowers hadn't shifted them. Miles frowned. Was Cosmo always a dryad? Or did she become the way she was over centuries of exposure to Shipnikkurat's "generosity"? She certainly smelled nice, but he wasn't sure he wanted to have a new and personal interest in beekeeping himself.

A massive wolf-human raced across the pink-tinged fields of the hallow with a snarl, unerringly heading straight for where Miles settled quietly among the greenery. He ignored it, attention on his ribbon, lips moving as he translated the binary crackle it emitted into letters he scribbled onto the empty page of a book that had long since exported its mind bending contents to the dark corners of his brain.

His whiskers, on the other hand, took on a frenzied dance. Spores that had been quietly drifting in gentle clouds now moved unerringly towards the intruder in his domain, phasing through solid stone and earth alike as testimony to their otherworldly nature. The wolf barely made it three sunflowers in before the first spore caught them, exploding into a caustic green mist that ate away at flesh and fur without even touching the flowers adjacent. The wolf let out a pained whine as seeker cloud after seeker cloud burst into it before finally tumbling to the dirt. Fresh spores rose from its devastated remains to await a fresh victim.

"Yorick." He swept his bone encrusted hand, the skelehelper floated off to comply, returning with a crescent shaped stone to drop onto a pile of similar trinkets Miles had acquired while hiding out here from the various people that hated him. He reached out to grab a cookie from the same pile with a tail without breaking his concentration, or even really noticing until he absent-mindedly took a bite.

Leaves rustled behind him. Miles tilted an ear. His "whiskers" hadn't reacted, so it presumably wasn't hostile, and he suspected was the same visitor he'd had multiple times at this point.

Brown, frightened eyes peered from beneath a frond, pale fur tinted pink in the moonlight as she crept closer through the mud.

Sept. Most likely the only person on the planet who didn't hate him right now, while simultaneously being absolutely terrified of him all the same.

Miles couldn't really blame her. He raised his rifle to shoot an eye monster's snot loogie out of the sky with a spray of flaming paint pellets. A refinement of his original bowgun's "torch bayonet" system that took advantage of his newly refined understanding of madworld physics to pass the pellets through _two_ candles of different "types" of flame. This drastically reduced their range but gave him yet _another_ method to set things on fire. And that wasn't including the lava bullets he'd- wait, he'd gone off on a tangent again.

He glanced with surprise at the girl still trembling before him. Normally she'd have already bolted back into the… house? Hut? It had been just a single room with table and chair like all the others before he'd built up a few creature comforts for it.

"Uh… Hey?" He put on a smile. "Everything-"

Sept plonked down on his lap without a word, grabbing one of his tails between her arms as the surprised fox stammered into silence.

"Uh... Hi?" He raised an eyebrow, suppressing several well-honed reflexes concerning unexpected physical contact.

"'M s'ry," the girl muttered into his tail.

"It's fine." Miles grinned. "Your sister used to grab 'em the same way. Total tail envy."

The smile faded swiftly to a sigh. No sunflowers up here to support it, after all.

"It must be weird for you, huh? Stuck in the middle of all this, just Cream and a grumpy plant lady for company?"

The rabbit flinched. She didn't much like Cosmo either it seemed.

"Well, that Doctor guy's pretty spooky too. Kind of reminds me of Vector." Miles tapped his lips. "You probably don't know Vector. Big crocodile, looks scary, but really a pretty goofy guy. Good people."

Well, the Doctor seemed less goofy more spooky, with a big wooden mask covering his face, but he'd been as helpfully unhelpful as the other contracted had been, perhaps more so with how _specific_ he was about what he was being unhelpful about.

"Everything's kinda weird for me too." He turned the page in his book, teasing the ribbon between his fingers. "I guess it's fitting. I just showed up out of nowhere with a note telling me I was going to save the world. Never said from what or who. Just spent my whole life trying to live up to it no matter what."

A laser singed past his ear. He fired another blazing salvo in its general direction. The world never quite gave up trying to get rid of him. He couldn't really blame _it_ either.

"At least you've still got Cream, right? I never really had a family. Or anyone like me. Even when I started hanging out with Sonic, he's always running away. From _everyone_. He flits in and out of peoples' lives like a shooting star, and I've always been the kid running after him as hard as I can, trying to be _worthy_ of him because I..."

He sighed, leaning back against a defensive barricade already overgrown with grass and lava flowers.

"I'm just greedy, I guess. I never wanted to stop having him around, so I was always trying to earn his attention."

And then Sonic told him to stay home, to stop following him. Just like he did to Amy.

"Heh. I guess I _made_ myself a family in the end though. Figures right? You may actually have the worst father in the multiverse. Even worse than mine." Miles laid a careful hand on the tiny mobian's head. She was so small he wasn't sure if he might break her by mistake. "But don't you worry, Sept. When I get you out of here I'll set you up with a nice wolf family. Huge tails, no laser snails. You'll love it."

Sept didn't reply, her breathing soft and even as she snuggled into the fur of his tail.

Miles sighed, gently running slender fingers across the fur of her head like he'd done uncountable times to Cream before her in the timeless warmth of Happy Days.

He missed the days when his biggest problem was dealing with Amy's weirdness. Before Happy Days, before _this_. Barely over a _month_ ago by real world time at this point. He'd have said things escalated quickly except for all the time dilation involved... And his problems just got a whole lot more complicated with Reason's message.

He'd been _hoping_ he could use the Master Emerald to flatline the Chaos Emeralds for a bit. One of the main constants in the worlds he... "harbinged" was the overabundance of fake emeralds leaving a constant source of chaos for the "outsiders" to smell, and ultimately break through to consume. With this world so close to fading entirely, even the natural manipulation of hammerspace was enough disruption to cause the hole Zeena and he fell through, and Shadow's chaos spear caused the currently stable rift hidden beneath a nearby leaf as per Reason's urgent, and unexplained, instruction.

But what if there was _no_ chaos? Would they lose the scent? Go elsewhere? Could the ancients have been aware of the outsiders already and designed this feature to avoid them? Without Knuckles around, it was going to be hard to find out.

Miles had set up a few machines with the Master Emerald as a power source in the past, like the device to travel to the Twilight Cage, but actually using it to suppress chaos emeralds directly involved some very _un_ scientific communing and fiddling that he wasn't very good at. Short of breaking the thing and hoping Tikal showed up to stick it back together again, which seemed fairly unlikely, their best hope of getting it working without Knuckles was Shade the Echidna. But after they left the Twilight Cage she'd wandered out into the world at large, probably hanging out somewhere trying to come to terms with becoming in a species of "two".

Heh. He knew that feeling.

Well, hopefully this was all unnecessary worry. Sonic was facing off against Knuckles - soon or currently, Miles' relationship with time rendered it largely irrelevant given he probably wouldn't receive any updates for days either way. All he needed to think about was how to _fix_ them. Would sunflowers work in an "alien" environment? Potions? The Doctor had talked about "imbuing" liquids, or more specifically, his unchosen self _not being able_ to imbue liquids, which meant that the concept was possible, if he somehow worked around madworld physics to make it happen. If he could synthesise a liquid that purified the corruption in Rouge then he could "produce" as much as he needed, the solution to stabilise this world and stave off his own's collapse until a more permanent fix became apparent.

Miles reached the end of the ribbon with a sinking feeling. Reason hadn't answered the most important question of all.

Why wasn't she _here_?

It might be looking a gift horse in the mouth, given that her presence at his lab was easily the best possible thing for his friends and to help Miles do things he couldn't possibly hope to achieve in madworld physics. But she presumably travelled to Earth with Cream and her sisters… His _friends_ , or at least an iteration of them.

But she hadn't mentioned the rabbits at all. Did the rest survive? Somewhere here? Or there at home? Or did the crash that had left Cream and Sept trapped between life and death kill them? Even though that same crash had left Reason completely unharmed? Did she find some rings? Or somehow escape injury by whatever trickery she used to escape Happy Days in the first place?

Or... did she have some hand in their demise?

Miles gently ruffled Sept's orange streak as his spores claimed another victim,

… Not knowing left him feeling sick to his stomach. Reason was _always_ on his side. A lighthouse in a sea of infinite time, a willing accomplice and treasured confidant who'd helped him carry out the grisly, thankless task of saving the world, before sacrificing herself to become Mama, enduring centuries alone in the dark waiting for him to kill her with words of praise and affection on her lips to her very last breath.

Even if her lo… her feelings for him had cooled in her latest incarnation, he could _only_ believe she was acting to help him, and if she wasn't he could _only_ accept her betrayal with a smile. But if she did it because she thought that was what he wanted… what kind of monster would he have to be in her eyes for her to think anything of the sort?

And could he bear to ask the question and find out?

Miles sighed and raised his hand, sending Yorick down to the garden below to return a moment later with a sunflower in its grasp.

He wished she was here.


	44. Chapter 44

How deep _was_ this place?

Sonic pumped the crank on his flashlight with a frown, sweeping the slender beam through the darkness.

He'd been going for almost thirty minutes now, whispers carrying from some unknown source nearby, feeling the ebb and flow of a vast organism all around him.

Inside him.

No thorns down here, but he felt something _grating_ across his skin all the same.

Sonic walked on, slipping between bony spikes too densely packed together for him to risk running fast or far, feet splashing in the warm water that flowed ever downwards into the depths below.

Like he was being swallowed.

How many flares left? Fourteen? This was _deep_. He glanced over his shoulder, flashlight beam illuminating a distant spider creeping slowly towards him, his last flare a pin prick of light behind it. No threat for now. He could _feel_ where it was anyway. Could feel _all_ of him. _Them_. He shook his head, rubbing at the veins on his arms to drown the crawling sensation within.

Something _big_ ahead, at least. Knuckles? So much _more_ than the things creeping around him. Sonic hunkered low, heroing instincts telling him that this was it. _This_ was what he'd come down here for… A ledge, water trickling over it in a tiny waterfall that spattered below... just too far to jump back up. A dull red light pulsed from his unseen quarry.

He twisted the cap off a flare, blue flame guttering forth, and threw it underarm over the edge. No way he was getting the element of surprise on Knuckles down there with this flashlight, might as well just go for it. The flare clattered onto rocks almost immediately, illuminating the lower level and he leapt down at full speed, hurtling towards where he _knew_ his target was.

A shape loomed in front, pulsing eyeballs jutting from the meat of the floor, bathed in a dull red aura emanating from its surface. And he struck it a moment later, feeling like he'd been torn in half from the impact as he bounced off, his lone ring bouncing to the ground.

"Oof, what is _that_ thing?" He rubbed his head with a dazed frown, zipping to grab the ring before it faded, flashlight locked on the pulsing growth quivering before him like it had never even been struck.

"Do you seek power?"

"Whoa!" Sonic spun around, flashlight raised to illuminate the echidna lurking in the shadows past the outgrowth, light catching glittering blue eyes that seemed undisturbed by the sudden illumination..

…Wrong echidna?

"Tikal?" Sonic raised an eyebrow. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Hello, Sonic. This one _remembers_ you." Tikal smiled, walking towards him with a slow, swaying gait. "Remembers your _strength_. Do you seek to destroy the shackles? _Free_ this place for us?"

"Of course!" Sonic gave her a thumbs up. "Freeing stuff's what I do best!"

"Interesting." Tikal didn't slow until she was right on top of him, glittering blue eyes still bright even as she slipped out of the beam of his torch to lean closer, pale orange quills taking on a ghostly quality in the light of the flare. "But it is too soon, Sonic the Hedgehog. You cannot break the chains until the guardian below is defeated. It will only break _you_ instead."

"Uh… Wait, you're saying Knuckles is down below?"

"Should I guide you, Sonic?" Tikal stared him in the eye. Weird, she'd been _shorter_ than him, right? "Shall I show you the power to face what lies below?"

"Nah, that's fine, Tikal, you've helped enough. This tunnel's long but there's no other turns after all." He grinned. "Why don't you get somewhere safe away from all these monsters? There's some crazy stuff down here."

"Very well, Sonic the Hedgehog. Call me when your power is not enough." She leaned in, pecking him unexpectedly on the cheek. "I will show you the way." She stepped past him, her spines brushing across his shoulder.

And when Sonic looked around she was gone.

Sonic rubbed his cheek. Weird, cold didn't normally bother him much. But in the musty warmth of this place her lips had been cold enough to hurt, leaving their lingering trace on his cheek.

He started walking, giving the eyeball growth a wide berth before he pushed back into a jog once again, warm air and water spray rushing out behind him. Knuckles was an incredible digger, just because Tikal had said he was somewhere down here didn't mean that he would be for long.

Smaller eye growths loomed ahead in the dark, too close to stop in time. He skidded through them, splattering them into chunks that yielded four red motes of light that drifted towards him of their own accord. He held up a hand to ward one off but it just flowed into him through his palm.

The bruises and scratches from his recent ordeal faded instantly, as though he'd just overdosed on rings. Sonic stretched out previously sore muscles with a nod. Not bad. Must be a science thing. He'd ask Tails when he got back with Knuckles. He'd just-

Sonic turned to walk on to find his foot dangling over blackness, a dark hollow too wide for the beam of his flashlight to reach the opposite side. Or the bottom. He couldn't even hear the trickling water hit anything below.

That was close. If there was an underground lake down there or something he would have been in big trouble. Sonic grabbed another flare, twisting off the cap and casting it to the darkness below...

"I know you're there, Sonic!" Knuckles' voice roared from the depths before the flare even reached the bottom, clattering to a halt far below. "Come, stand before me! The time is almost upon us!"

Sonic stepped out into the void, hurtling down to land feet first in the centre of the cone of flickering light the flare provided, already popping off a second and a third to hurl across the massive chamber by the time he landed.

The hulking frame of the crimson echidna slumped upon one of many eye growths, blood still pouring from his body like an endless wellspring that flowed into the puddles of water that littered the cave floor.

"You did well to survive, Sonic." Knuckles snorted, rubbing a bare thumb across his nose, only the reinforced knuckles of his gloves still remained atop his engorged fists. "And thanks to you, mother has made her _claim_ on this place."

"I've come to stop you, Knuckles!" Sonic tossed another flare, slipping the box into hammerspace as he squared off with his longtime rival.

"You still don't understand, Sonic?" Knuckles stood from his throne of flesh, slamming his fists together with an impact hard enough to create a burst of light across the cavern. "Iog-Sotôt would _damn_ this place in his image. Endless orbs that see, rend open the gate and release the hounds to hunt til all is no more!"

"Yeah, you seem to be doing _so_ much better with all this stuff." Sonic placed his hand on the floor, feet revving in perfect figure eights across the meaty floor as his legs built up momentum.

"We _live_ , Sonic. We _are_. We are not unmade but _joined_ with mother! This is the _only_ way!"

"Whatever you say, Mama's boy." Sonic scowled. "You're coming with me."

He burst forward.


	45. Chapter 45

Reason was used to stress.

She had maintained multiple lives in her care, dealt with endless tribulations, many times critical, as she had cared for her wards, handled the endless failures and malfunctions on a space station that was, thanks to the odd quirk of time dilation used to set it up, beyond ancient by the time _any_ of her was born.

And she had spent centuries with the sure, quiet certainty that she was going to be murdered by her one true love. All in the same dead isolation of not just solitude, but being suspended in the mechanical shell of "Mama", exposed to the world outside only at the moment of her birth, and, though she had herself never experienced it, the moment of "her" death.

Reason was _not_ , however, used to uncertainty.

The same anxiety that gnawed at her so constantly was at the same time a dull reassurance. She waited for Miles to awaken because she knew he would. She fixed and treated and repaired with the quiet confidence that she would either succeed, or that her failure would not _matter_ in the grand scheme of things. When a Cream needed to be switched out, there was no worry that this might go wrong, even after Miles had them live together, because it _didn't_ go wrong. Hers was a necessary existence, any surprises she faced were either trivial or _pleasant_ \- for a given value of pleasant. Like finding out that it was _not_ necessary to overclock a Cream to run the Happy Days simulation together with Miles. He was _used_ to people thinking slower than him, after all.

_That_ minor change had saved her several hundred Creams and a great deal of work, and the only change in the end was that the script her sacrificial self read before she died was even less true than before, and there was _very_ little of it that had been true in the first place, something that was either intentional on Miles' part to help his future-past self pick up on the discrepancy, or an artefact of the _Prime_ Happy Days, the trigger at the start of infinity, that Miles had hijacked to save the world.

But was it even infinity before she had lived it? Where did they fall in an infinite chain? Was Miles victim of his own scheme, fighting an imaginary threat, or was he the first in a loop? Could it meaningfully be distinguished either way? Perhaps every loop was real until it wasn't, until he made that fateful choice to sacrifice the few for the many. The paradox was an endless source of interest and tireless contemplation for her over the centuries, tied inextricably to herselves, and she long hoped, when her carefully laid schemes fell into place, that she might get the opportunity to talk with Miles about her theories.

And other stuff. She _was_ Doodle, after all, and gifted with Miles' own stubborn tenacity. She wasn't going to forget what he promised her.

But… she had no idea if she ever would get that chance.

Reason, for the first time in her long, long existence, had no idea what the future held. And that scared her as much as the pink hedgehog currently trying to force feed her a haddock.

"Come on, you're the one who had me make the stuff."  
"Funny story. I didn't realise I hated fish."

"You just want me to sprinkle mint on it or something. Well _no_ mint until you finish your fish. Come on, open up little mister."

Reason sighed, holding a slightly squashed yellow flower in her hands as she dutifully opened her mouth to accept the vile input. _Chewing_ was a new and unpleasant activity for her as well.

"So you have any idea what... Uh, _you_ were thinking when you shoved all this through the portal?"

Of course. "Nope." Reason shook her head. "He- I- even put some dirt in the bag. Didn't stick around for more than a fraction of a second before disappearing either or I'd have called you."

"So what are you doing?"

"Right now I'm just testing all these materials to see if they have any effect on Rouge's tissue cultures." Reason tapped her chin, still moving her jaw up and down. She wasn't quiet sure how to know when she was _finished_ chewing. "He might have been hoping to make use of the lab facilities to try and determine a cure for Sonic." And Knuckles, and Rouge, neither of which he could _know_ about in the scenario she'd concocted, where she had no contact with him. "Not much hope for a miracle, but with how quick time flows over there, we could try to enlarge the portal and stabilise them both there."

And that would appeal to _Doodle_ as well as her.

"Makes sense." Amy nodded. "I hope we find something." Her expression fell as she looked down to the plate, stabbing another hunk of dead sea creature harder than she needed to. "Come on, open up."

"Still chewing." Reason moved to another pair of petri dishes, these ones already sprouted with purple grass shooting from the alien soil she'd spread over Rouge's corrupt tissue. Seeds in the soil? The corruption itself taking new shape? It was fine, an opportunity to test her primary objective.

"No stalling. Swallow." Amy poked the fork forward again.

Reason complied with a grimace. Her jaw ached.

"You don't need to feed me you know, you can-"

"Watch you waste all this food?" Amy smirked. "I don't think so. Besides-" She delicately inserted the fork into Reason's mouth. "Not every day I get to spoil my _adorable_ foxy friend without him getting mad at me."

Well, he _was_ adorable, and so she was by induction. Reason frowned. Maternal instincts or more general affection? An odd turnabout for her either way. But was this Amy or Doodle? Did it matter? Doodle was _watching_. If she was not Doodle enough, would she have any warning at all? Or would the next time her personality surfaced be to swing a hammer at the back of her unsuspecting skull?

She didn't _know_.

A shiver ran down her spine.

"Oh come on, it can't be _that_ bad." Amy rolled her eyes. "Two more bites, alright?"

"It's cooked fine, Amy." Reason assumed with a smile, dripping a bright green liquid onto one dish. "It's- oh!"

A streak of green grass sprouted from among the purple - no, the purple grass had _become_ green, in a perfect pattern mirroring the droplets she'd poured with almost instantaneous effect.

"What is it?"

"We may have our miracle." Reason glanced at the label. The green "seeds" ground into a suspension with a yellow flower, sand and "spores" in honey. Their green solution to this mess. "I'll need to run a few dozen more tests, set up some control samples, and check to confirm necessary dosage, but this is a great start."

"Yay!" Amy cheered, wrapping her arms around Reason's shoulders in glee.

And even better, forgetting to feed her another hunk of fish. Reason stiffly endured a gesture of affection she'd last experienced as Sept, triggering a wave of fresh trauma deep in her gut.

"It's not the finish line yet. I'll set up the machine to mix up some more and start working on a report to send to Miles. We're going to need to-"

An explosion rocked the outer wall of the workshop. Reason fell to the floor, tiny flask skittering from her hands as heavy set robots burst in through the unlocked door with autocannons raised.

"Eggman's robots!"

"Why _hello_ , Hedgehog Girl." Eggman's voice crackled from machine speakers. "Thought I'd _drop in_ and collect _my_ emerald while that _fox_ brat is away. How about you hand it over and nobody has to get _hurt_? What do you say?"

"I say... activate Security Protocol Prower Seven."

Amy grinned as cannons blazed into life all around her.


	46. Chapter 46

"It's no use!" Knuckles countered Sonic's attack with a chunk of flesh rock torn from the wall to batter the spinning hedgehog away.

"I don't want to hear _you_ say that." Sonic wagged his finger at the titanic echidna with a disgusted expression.

He landed, feet first against the side of the cave, accelerating against the vertical surface. Spidery fangs clamped down in his wake.

He wasn't _losing_ at least, but Knuckles wasn't wrong. Sonic was hitting _hard_ and not only was the big mobian simply absorbing the damage with unnatural resilience but what wounds he did manage to inflict were regenerating at an astounding rate, _especially_ when he touched one of those eye-mounds around the place.

Touching the eye things didn't do _Sonic_ any good, and he'd been careful so far to avoid hitting one for a repeat of what happened in the tunnel above. All he could do was hope there was _some_ limit to how much Knuckles could shrug off.

Sonic leapt, slamming feet first into the fleshy boulder Knuckles just threw, slamming it back towards the echidna. He dropped to the floor, feet already spinning as he hit the ground. He smashed through a flying fang monster, smashing it into chunks without slowing down.

Knuckles slapped the bloody stone to the side where it melded back into the surface, turning to counter Sonic.

"You're too-" Sonic burst out of the other side of his rival's body without resistance.

His legs tangled as left became right and forward became backwards, a meaty hand snapped out behind Knuckles to grab him by the torso.  
"Slow." Knuckles glared down at him, lined face grim and dark in the flickering blue light.

"Oh no." Sonic grimaced as he was hurled up in the air. Knuckles snatched his leg, slamming him into the stony floor over and over again. His one ring bounced away. Stone cracked beneath him.

"I have always _respected_ you, Sonic." Knuckles slammed him into the ground for punctuation. "Your _determination_." Slam. "Your _strength_." Slam. "You will make a fine chosen if you simply _accept_ _your role_." Knuckles clenched his fist, Sonic screamed as he felt the bone of his shin snap within it.

"Call out, my friend. You will be _saved_ from the great horrors to come. You bear the _mark_ already."

"The… _great_ est horror here is _you_ old pal." Sonic muttered through gritted teeth. "Maybe try a diet?"

"How many battles have you fought while understanding _nothing_ , Sonic?" Knuckles slammed him into the floor once more for good measure before tossing him off to the side.

Sonic splashed through a stream of meltwater, panting in pain and shock. He was no stranger to scrapes and tumbles, but even his life of endless fighting didn't make him completely immune to this level of debilitating injury. Knuckles had waited for his opportunity and taken him down with surgical precision.

" _Call her_ , Sonic." Knuckles turned his back to Sonic, laying his hands against the grisly outcropping of eyes and flesh as though giving supplication on some demon altar. "Play your part as I play mine."

Sonic rolled onto his front, dragging his leg behind him as he crawled out of the water, away from the spider he _knew_ was coming.

Was Knuckles talking about _Tikal_? She _had_ said to call her.

"The last world is almost at an end. Whatever Tails' efforts they come too late." Knuckles shook his head. "His role is _past_. He will join the ranks of the lost or be _undone_."

A spider slammed into his back, fangs first, its body smashing apart against him into bloody chunk. Sonic wobbled on one leg, shivering in pain as his spin died down.

"If you _or_ your ugly mom hurt _one hair_ on my little bro's head I will _break_ you." He snarled, teeth tinged pink with blood. "Come at me, big guy."

He wobbled into a boxing stance, hands trembling, vision blurry, heart pounding.

"It seems you still have need of _guidance_." Knuckles flexed the muscles of his back, forcing dislodged fangs free of his flesh. "I will help you discard your pride."

Knuckles burst forth. His massive bulk hadn't slowed his speed in the slightest, long legs covered ground faster than ever as he loped towards Sonic like a charging gorilla, launching fist first through the air towards him…

Sonic leapt aside. Knuckles' attack slammed into the surface behind him that just _happened_ to be an eyeball altar.

"NYEAGH!" The red giant's mighty roar rumbled off the very walls of the cave as he fell to the floor, clutching his chest.

Sonic didn't hesitate, throwing himself onto Knuckles back, raining a flurry of blows lightning quick against his head and neck, not slowing even as the echidna pushed unsteadily to his feet, stumbling punch drunk as he tried to dislodge the hedgehog hanging onto the flexible spines of his head.

"Enough!" Knuckles swung his whole body forward, flipping Sonic over his head, still gripping a spine.

"Eh… heh. Hi." The blue blur waved, then sent a right hook straight into Knuckles' nose, letting go to drop to the floor.

A pair of hands slapped down on him halfway there.

"I have always found you deeply _annoying_ as well." Knuckles scowled, blood dripping from his chin, blending with the crimson and black lines that crisscrossed his cheeks. He easily pinned the smaller hedgehog's arms against his sides with his giant palms. " _Call._ "

Sonic shook his spinning head. _Why_ did Knuckles want Tikal to help him? It didn't make _sense_.

But he hadn't made a career out of doing what bad guys told him to do. Sonic took a deep breath and spat. Knuckles glared at him, purple eyes unblinking as bloody spit trailed into the blood pouring down his face.

"You have made your choice, my friend. I will spare you from further pain-"

Bullets exploded across his back and shoulders. Sonic dropped to the floor with a pained gasp as a dark shape blasted from above, red eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

"Don't you two ever get tired of _talking_?"

Shadow skimmed under Knuckles' legs, snatching Sonic up and away as he skated across the cavern, jet skates sending flashes of light off the walls.

"Shadow! You're okay! How'd you know where to find me?"

" _She_ told me." Shadow unceremoniously dumped Sonic to the floor, pulling out a pistol to shoot the spider next to him in the face. A red mote of light tumbled from its corpse, flowing into Sonic.

"Agh!" Sonic felt the bones in his leg fuse in moments, his heart slow to its normal rhythm. He wove to his feet, favouring the still damaged limb. "Thanks again for the assist."

"Just try not to embarrass me this time." Shadow pulled out an SMG, pumping it with a grim frown as Knuckles stood, arms spread before his "altar".

"Ia! Mgah'ehye nwngluii ot Shupnikkurat ahmgep _mgahnnn_!" Knuckles bent over, white growths bulging from the holes in his body before exploding outwards, disembodied eyes swirling around him in a mad orbit, flowing freely through walls as though they weren't even there. He straightened, dozens of violet eyes glaring down at the two hedgehogs from all directions.

The three of them burst forwards as one.


	47. Chapter 47

The power of computers was their simplicity.

A mind was a complex, messy thing, designed for handling an infinitely variable range of experiences in a world of unknown parameters, uncertain goals, and inconsistent stimuli, all while handling the basic tasks of maintaining its own wetware and trying to make "best fit" choices based on simultaneously a lifetime of context for the general and frequently no context whatsoever for the specific.

A computer _lacked_ this clutter. A computer had a specific goal, and a specific function based off its program. This clarity of purpose allowed it to direct _all_ its power on a single point, calculating numbers, operating with split second timing and levels of accuracy far beyond an equivalent meat sack, because a computer did exactly, and _only_ , what it was instructed to do.

Reason, thanks to having inhabited three completely different minds in her memories was uniquely positioned to appreciate both the analytical power of a brain substantially more powerful than most computers, and just how far a computer was punching above its weight compared to what it would be if it had to deal with all this meat stuff.

But there was a very good reason why Robotnik, a genius of many fields, had a habit of using critters to power the robotic AI of his Badnik armies.

Because computers were _incredibly_ stupid.

Reason lay wrapped around her precious vial of miracle, a flickering fireshield blazing around her, the strange feeling of _rings_ , something she'd experienced for only one solitary moment before in all her lives, a single magical moment where Miles defied all reality to save her life and then defied her own despair to give her a _new_ life as Reason.

But even with Miles' genius at work, the program Prower Seven Zero operated on a very simple set of rules that his laboratory followed very well.

1: Use laser emitters to terminate any biohazards, robots, and non-mobians with extreme prejudice while carefully preserving the lab's furniture and any lifeforms within.

2: Use a rail mounted ceiling cannon to shoot a 1UP model ring container at any mobians within the lab hard enough to shatter the monitor and restore the wounded mobians to fighting fitness to oppose an invader.

3: Follow up the rings with a flameshield before removing any remaining biohazardous material with enough fire to leave the metal floor glowing somewhere between cherry red and blinding bright.

4: Deploy external defence turrets to ward off continued assaults until help arrived or the defence mode was manually overridden.

Reason _knew_ this as much because it had just happened as because she had taken the time to browse lab functionality on the Miles Electric, and she knew with perfect confidence that it had been Amy Rose - clever, adaptable Amy Rose - and not the rigid intelligence of the computerised Doodle within her - because this was also a choice that Doodle could not possibly have made. Because, very unlike computers, this was exactly the wrong decision being made for very intelligent reasons on limited data.

Rouge, her carefully constructed cage sliced to pieces around her without even scratching her tainted flesh, her wounds - and overdose ridden brain - fully restored by the rings, and protected from the self-same fire that had engulfed her as a biohazard by the fireshield that had targeted her as a mobian.

And the eyeball covered monster wasted no time in executing programming of her own. Amy exploded sideways from a lightning kick to her head. The lopsided jaws of the bat clicking together in a dark semblance of speech as she pursued the surprised hedgehog, smashing through machinery without a care as she approached, batting Amy's hammer out of her hands with a flick of a tentacle. The weapon spun through the air smashing through Miles' main computer terminal in a shower of sparks.

The cannons outside ceased, lobotomised. Rouge struck again, smashing Amy into the wall. Rings tumbled from her body as Reason dove between cover, scrabbling among the remains of the desk for the lab's primary computer core and the precious golden ring portal among the splinters.

"Tails! You have to get away!" Amy dove under a kick into a flickering ring, sending her boot into the eye in the back of Rouge's knee hard enough to break the bat's fire shield. Using the force of the kick, Amy put herself between Reason and Rouge, arms outstretched. "Just run for the door and keep running. Don't look back."

Reason flinched. She had the portal and the computer core. She _needed_ to get them away from Robotnik, she _needed_ to get Miles his sample and tell him what she'd discovered.

Rouge didn't fall, despite the ooze pouring from her leg. A tentacle lashed out, crashing through the pink hedgehog's resistance with her lone ring tumbling away. All eyes but one focused on Reason as Rouge dragged the struggling hedgehog closer, terrible jaws opening to emit a long purple tongue.

… She needed to save Amy.

Reason charged, flaming shield raging around her as she barrelled into the monstrous bat.

"Tails! No!"

Rotten flesh momentarily sizzled from the heat as an almost hand lashed out, clamping down on her throat. Reason's shield failed as rings burst from the bat, a handful entering the mobians in her grip, only to tumble out themselves a moment later and back into Rouge as she tightened her grasp enough to wound. Pulling the smaller fox close her tongue snaked up towards Reason's face, holding her too far away for her hands to do more than pry at the inexorable grip on her throat, black spots flashing across her vision.

Her tails, on the other hand, were _just_ long enough. One coiled around Rouge's tongue, yanking it forward and down as the second splashed the contents of the sample bottle into her open jaw.

Rouge screamed, stumbling backwards clutching her throat. Amy and Rouge fell to the ground heaving for breath. Reason pushed herself up first, grabbing the empty bottle from her tail as gunfire crashed against the wall behind her. Robotnik's robots, unmolested by the now disabled turrets, had successfully regrouped.

Reason crushed the bottle in her hand, squeezing until she drew blood before dropping the shattered remains into the portal. Her fingers numbed as she smeared blood over the lip of the ring before dropping it onto the bat's writhing body.

Then she turned around and punched Amy in the side of the head, sending the hedgehog spinning to the floor before leaping onto her back. She coiled her tails around her throat as she invaded the hedgehog's hammerspace, tearing a machine free and holding it aloft, the gasping hedgehog struggling feebly in her grip as consciousness faded.

And the robots, because they had brains, rather than computers, _hesitated_ , trying to process the situation as Reason pushed herself back to her feet, dripping blood as she tore apart the machine in a spray of scalding liquid, plucking the glittering chaos emerald from within.

Reason smiled, wiping a bloodstained hand over her teastained face as she walked towards the closest machine, dragging Amy's limp body behind her, holding her prize aloft.

"Objective complete, Grandfather. Please assign further orders."


	48. Chapter 48

It was strange how things worked out.

Miles loosed a salvo of burning projectiles into a flying laser snail, illuminating the night in flickering colours.

He'd received Reason's grim message well enough. Either the combination she'd sent him held some properties that combated the corruption or had something to do with the blood coating it. But as far as things went, sending him a warning _not_ to investigate something by giving him the exact recipe to avoid was so likely to backfire that it was a wonder Robotnik hadn't tried it as an evil scheme.

Assuming that it _was_ a cure, and trying very hard not to think about what had happened to Reason, he'd had almost every ingredient handy, even if the mechanics of creation were presumably more complex than "stick it all in a bottle and shake it", which seemed an unlikely way of producing _anything_. There was only one ingredient that gave him trouble, and it _wasn't_ his strictly limited supply of happy flowers.

"How much further?" Sept murmured to Cream.

"Not too long. You can see some torches over there, see?"

They were at the back of the little group behind Cosmo, Sept clutching to Cream's back, while the larger rabbit carried a gun styled like an oversized - or undersized, given the native fauna - wasp clutched in her grip, one of the things he'd recovered from the giant plant.

He'd insisted she take it, despite her understandable reluctance to touch the bizarre thing. The gun was useless to him - it worked off the same limited mojo supply as his own "magic" - but the relentlessly hostile nature of the wasps it fired meant she didn't even have to aim, and while she didn't appear to have any greater mojo capacity than he did, Sept could just squeeze the trigger on her behalf, doubling their output. A handy long-ranged option that was far preferable to Cream trying to use him as a bludgeon again.

Not that that was why he had them on the opposite side of the group. Any reduction in Cream's ability to bodily smash him into things, or for the two them actually having to talk to one another, was just a _secondary_ benefit. Awkward silence would have been an upgrade at this point. But while Cosmo was far from defenceless - especially with the trail of lava flowers Miles left in his wake - she was _slow_. Having her sandwiched in the middle of the group made it easier to make sure she wasn't left behind or caught out by some of the denizens of the hallow that posed significantly more threat to people that weren't built to outrun a racecar.

Miles sighed, saturating the rolling turquoise hills with suppressive fire to reduce the number of beams heading his way. Laser snails were small enough that even a grazing hit was enough to keep them from shooting for a few moments - and to set them on fire, which didn't need to happen very often before solving the problem more permanently.

Should he have left them where they were? "Safe" in their tiny shack with the creepy Doctor? The lone ingredient he didn't have - and didn't have in a near endless supply at that - was simultaneously the furthest away and the most at danger of being lost entirely the more time went on. But he'd faced enough horrors that could bypass solid stone that the choice to leave them alone there could easily turn out fatal. Better that they stay in the comparative safety of the town. If nothing else, Zeena was there, and proximity to, even if not cooperation with, the zeti was going to be a lot safer for them while he went off to save the world. Or at least look like a dummy shaking a bottle around.

"You are risking a great deal, Miles Prower."

"Huh?" Miles perked up, ear tilted. "I'm kinda used to getting shot at though?"

Cosmo frowned at him, shaking her head.

"That was not what I was referring to, though that is the fate you risk with your foolishness."

"Wow." Miles stuck his tongue out at her.

"I am-"

"Yeah, yeah. 'You cannot help me, Cosmo the Dryad'. Just trying to figure out your latest weirdness."

Cosmo turned away with a huff, arms folded and a sour expression on her face.

She was... warning him? One of the spore clouds drifting about him accelerated, blasting apart a tiny fairy that fluttered towards them. Possibly about collateral damage? He stopped shooting with a frown. Cosmo had broken a flower and an angry nature goddess had eaten her for it. He blasted a charging horn-horse before slicing it in half with a flick of the Whammer's tail, sending Yorick to collect the remains as both creatures' corpses dissolved into fractals of light.

Hm. Their horn was certainly reminiscent of the narwhal. Should it be narhors then? Well, etymologically that fit pretty well _after_ he killed it, he supposed. Miles frowned, turning to peer through the gloom until he saw movement, a tiny butterfly with wings of unnatural colour and vibrancy fluttering over the grass.

Miles had just enough time to muse how strange it was for the local monster population not to have killed it like they did all the other mundane wildlife he'd seen when he realised where the butterfly was flying _to_. Cosmo shot him a dirty look as the insect touched a spore and detonated.

"Oh come on, how was that _my_ fault? It's not like I control lw'shuggornah!" He blinked, touching his mouth with a frown. "Ahf'epshuggog?"

Cosmo's presumably scathing retort was cut off by a shrill otherworldly shriek that made his teeth hurt. A towering humanoid figure, golden skin glowing with an inner light of its own erupted from the hillside, borne aloft by the same prismatic wings as the butterfly but a hundredfold larger. The glittering crown upon her head and regal attire were faintly reminiscent of the maginaryworlder's queen Illumina. At least if Illumina had butterfly wings. And made everyone nearby start speaking in tongues by her mere presence.

The fairy queen burst forward with a speed unmatched by anything he'd encountered in madworld before, a rainbow volley bursting from her hands to surge down towards them like guided missiles. Miles lunged to the side, lips constantly moving to release a rhythmic chant without discernible words the entire time, pulling Cosmo with him as the bolts slipped down into the ground, almost hitting them a second time as they popped out of the earth again moments later.

"Ia fot'na!" Miles yelled, grabbing Cosmo up off the ground and spraying the queen with flame pellets as she swooped above them once more. She _burned_ at least.

Wasps slammed themselves into her, and she flew off at breakneck speed. Miles barely had a chance to look behind them before she was flying towards them once more along the ground, spores exploding against pristine flesh without so much as a mark.

"N'aghn ktu'li!" Cream cried out as she was barrelled over from behind, Sept hurtling forward to where Miles rushed to catch her.

"Lw'nafh'drn?!" Miles checked the tiny rabbit for wounds.

"Ahf'ymg'ah ai?" She tilted her head up at him before covering her own mouth, wide eyed.

Miles grunted in irritation, tossing Sept over his shoulders. It was no good. He didn't understand what _he_ was saying, let alone anyone else. Cooperation relied on _communication_ , and the hallow's monarch had rendered that useless.

Petals of flame surged up onto the fairy in a swirling tornado as she hovered above once more, rainbow rays of light carving into the ground like a high intensity laser. Miles glanced between Cosmo and Cream and ran towards the latter, pulling her to her feet and splattering a bucket of honey into her bloodied face.

"Ya ahnah fhtagn?" She looked appalled at him.

"Uh'enah ot shupnikkurat!" He pointed at Cosmo, now surrounded by over a dozen light beams and clearly already been struck by one. "Orr'euh'e gof'n!" He jerked a thumb at Sept. "l'ah'f'nah uh'eaglnah!" He pointed to the distant lights of the town.

Cream blinked at him, then grabbed Sept. Miles pointed to Cosmo, her, and town once more, pulling his rifle free to land multiple bursts of flame on the fairy's body as she snapped overhead before zipping off to the side again, charging across the ground towards him. He stood his ground, slipping his guitar from hammerspace to swing it with full force into her chest with a musical wail. The impact blew him through a laser snail and a tree, shining breastplate dented but intact where the wood had splintered around him..

"Ya ahnah fhtagn!" Cream cried out from the distance, Miles peered up to see Cosmo and Sept beside with her.

"Bug! Ah nafl mgep ymg'mgr'luh!" Miles made shooing motions with a frown. His mouth hurt from talking the unnatural tongue more than his injuries from the crushing impact. Cream reluctantly turned and fled, dragging a complaining, yet comprehensible, Cosmo behind her.

Wait, _she_ wasn't affected? Perhaps contracts with outsiders protected them from outside interference from other creatures? Not really something for him to test, given the circumstances, but something to bear in mind given her mistress' offer.

Miles hopped to his feet as the fairy once again flew above him, a spinning army of stars erupting from her in a whirling sphere, leaving burning trails of light in their wake. He leapt up through a gap in the web, slicing his Whammertail into the fairy before the stars reversed direction, slipping around them once again with pinpoint precision.

He couldn't put his finger on it. He sliced into her again and again, the flames of his assault blazing uselessly against her pristine skin, followed by a screaming skull that accelerated into her and exploded into purple flame. Nothing seemed to phase her, she was too quick to escape from - he zipped aside as another salvo of rainbow missiles surged towards him, then again as they burst free from the earth once more - but…

She flew above, same as every time, and Miles leapt, spinning his tails to gain a little more height as she launched herself from the side once more, spores exploding against her body unheeded as he swung his guitar down into her passing shoulder.

But this was _easy_.

Beams of coloured light shone from every direction, some painting him with their light. He slipped to the side as vicious swords of energy crackled through the air at lightning speed. He fired into the space above him where he _knew_ she would return a moment later.

The fairy queen was _predictable_.

She dashed again. He countered, munching on his cake, humming a tune to keep time to the beat, though he'd never heard the song that came out of his throat before. The Hallow was the absolute suppression of freedom, and its champion, however mighty, embodied that principle to perfection. There was no variation, no reactivity in her movements. Make an attack, return to hover above the target, cycle to next attack until starting over from the beginning. Like a computer program, there were no hidden tricks, no tricky terrain to impede him beyond a few trees, and with the luminous creature's contrast to the darkness of the night, the only difficulty in tracking her _or_ her attacks were the brief moments they slipped underground and out of sight, something he wasn't going to fall for twice. And while she was lightning quick in the moment she returned to "hover", she telegraphed her attacks constantly through both the noises she made and the attacks themselves.

Miles blasted a laser snail to pieces while he evaded her close range laser beams, still humming, still keeping the rhythm as he employed the minimum possible effort to dodge, sending a brutal hammer blow into her jaw.

Her body finally fragmented, glowing tentacles slipping through perfectly symmetrical wounds in her torso, glowing with divine radiance and unleashing ever more powerful assaults that pummelled the landscape and turned the sky as bright as day with every blast.

But Miles remained untouched, barely even needing to fly as he slipped through intricate patterns with ease. It was the _unexpected_ that gave him trouble, things that didn't work how he predicted them to. And he had removed the only complicating factors - his companions. With him as the _only_ target, he could scarcely _not_ evade her attacks. The Hallow was too perfect for uncertainty, and he was its worst opponent for it.

With a final pirouette, Miles spun into the air with his Whammer, looping the razor wire around her neck as she dashed forward once again. Grabbing the hammer in his other hand, he yanked backwards with both ends, feeling only momentary resistance before her oversized head crashed into the ground at his feet, fading into fractals, a decorated sack tumbling open as it landed.

"Well, that's… you... " He sighed. "Beaten?"

He shook his head, directing Yorick to bring him his spoils with a gloomy gesture. That would have been a _perfect_ chance for a one liner. He sucked at this. Even villains were supposed to be good at those.

The floating skull complied, and Miles plucked a glittering rapier from the sack as tall as he was, thrusting it through the air in a series of rainbow afterimages and quietly trying not to think about how it had fit in the bag in the first place.

Nice. Really cemented his whole "fantasy hero" schtick now, and since he'd accidentally torn a narhors to pieces with it in a blink, it was clearly imparting some otherworldly force in addition to his own muscle power.

Next… he picked up a glittering necklace, barely getting a chance to look at it before it crept into his hammerspace unbidden. Light blazed up before him. He stumbled back as a fairy as tall as him hovered where Yorick had been, the top of its skull now worn atop her head like a grizzly helm, clad in an outfit of bone and silk. Yorick's disembodied hands still floated before her.

"Ulnah ya?" The fairy smiled, glittering purple eyes shining from the eye sockets of the skull, looking down at him from where she hovered on shining wings.

Miles tilted his head.

"Uh… Hi?" He waved uncertainly.

The skullfairy raised two hands to mirror his, bone and flesh, smile unchanged, her glow illuminating the grass around her like a torch.

"... I guess you're... uh… mine now?" This was considerably weirder with a seemingly flesh and blood creature than an automated skull golem, though he admittedly had no idea how "alive" Yorick was previously _or_ this odd hybrid was now, but she seemed cheerful enough at the prospect.

"Ulnah ya?"

"Alright, guess I'll call you Ulnah. Hope you can help me out."

"Ia! Ulnah mgepahmggoka."

"Ah... huh, sure." He'd preferred Yorick's deathly silence, if he was honest.

Ulnah clapped her hands together happily, extracting a gold and blue emblem of crossed pins and golden wings from the sack and discarding the empty fabric to the ground. Miles raised an eyebrow as she thrust it against his chestplate, then grunted in pain as it slipped through to his unprotected flesh behind, searing into his body.

"What the _Penders_?" Miles dragged his armour into hammerspace with a hiss of pain, staring down at the sigil burnt into his fur.

Four hands grabbed him at once, the fairy dragging him up into the air with that same boundless enthusiasm. Miles yelped as she released him, spinning his tails to keep him aloft. The fairy flitted around him, preventing him from descending to his growing annoyance, constantly prodding him upwards.

"Hey, I'm getting tired you know!" He frowned.

Except he wasn't? His tails, normally restricted to less than a minute in the air before he was left exhausted by the intensive nature of his flight method, flowed easily and endlessly without struggle. He flitted from side to side, feeling out subtle changes in acceleration and deceleration that left him feeling more manoeuvrable than ever.

Ulnah flitted close, pressing her palm against the marking on his chest with her unchanging smile.

"Good job!" Miles smiled too, taking a bite of infinity cake as he patted the bonefairy on its skull head. "This is going to be a _big_ help."

Then, winding his tails up, Miles let off a sonic boom as he broke the sound barrier and soared off into the night.


	49. Chapter 49

There was a marked difference between the act of piloting and the act of flying.

Both held a certain thrill, a sense of elation at soaring free in the air, the sky spreading out in every direction and the ground far below. Neither was necessarily a _lesser_ accomplishment than the other, but like running a race and driving a car there was a completely different _feel_ to it, the direct sense of _exertion_ , the immediacy and effortless control of doing it yourself versus the detached feeling of _harnessing_ something, mastering a force greater than yourself.

Miles' new sigil blurred the lines between the two to an almost uncomfortable degree. All the precision and immediacy was there, but gone was any feeling of exertion _or_ restraint as he soared the skies, too high above for the trivialities of the world below to bother him, too fast for the things that roamed the skies to keep up with him and with all the exhilaration of personal achievement. He had bypassed the town, barely catching sight of Cosmo and the Creams arriving safely as he roared by overhead at well over the speed of sound. He had soared over tainted grounds and infested lakes that had given him such trouble before. Even the clouds above were tempting targets that sometimes seemed close enough to fly up and touch, though he'd kept enough presence of mind to keep his attention firmly on the ground and more mundane concerns despite the temptation.

But at the same time as he felt the wind in his fur, felt his tails hum, Miles very much had that sense of being at the helm of something far beyond himself. Something that, like so many of his tools and weapons, seemed to draw part of its energy from something boundless and indifferent to the theft - assuming it wasn't simply an act of cosmic _noblesse oblige_ from the very things he had aligned himself against.

...Well, he'd still _use_ it, of course. Miles devoured his cake again. It might be psychosomatic, but he swore it helped him move faster, and if speed mattered tonight then he'd need all he could get.

He soared past the massive wall of the catacombs to find his worries well-justified.

The corruption had passed the wall.

Miles dropped low, angling his tails beneath him to shred through thorns as he skimmed across the surface, casually shredding a spitter in a flurry of rainbow flames without slowing.

The rarest commodity, something he'd barely seen beneath the earth and never realised the importance of while he was there, its newfound importance belying its humble nature...

Sand.

Miles hit what used to be the beach with a cry of irritation already on his lips. He was too late. Bathed in Ulnah's radiant glow the purple sands of the beach extended as far as the eye could see. The dark waters of the ocean were a sickly purple hue themselves and showed no sign of life in their depths.

"Hope you're good at holding your breath."

Taking a deep breath, Miles accelerated into the water, momentarily displacing a surging wave behind him before he dropped beneath the surface, the same tireless spinning of his tails that propelled him through the air serving the exact same function to drive him through the murky deeps.

Hopefully he wasn't going to run into any orcas, though generally speaking they'd probably be a little on the unrecognisable side if he did. He swept a greenflame torch low, illuminating a bottom of the ocean as grim and lifeless as the beach above.

Was this pointless? Should he be trying to sweep around the coast? Scour the countryside and the undercaverns for a pocket of sand sheltered from the corruptive elements around it? Could he even be sure one existed?

Ten seconds. He kept moving, not even bothering to try any kind of search pattern. If it spread from the shore into the ocean then he might find the edge of the contamination. If it spread from the ocean then it didn't _matter_ where he looked.

At least he had enough light to see by, even if the only thing to see was the sand rushing by below. Ulnah kept up with ease, her gossamer wings flapping as easily through water as they did in air, though Miles suspected she was, like the great horrors she had spawned from, as unaffected by them as they were by solid stone and earth.

Twenty seconds. How far had he come? Was that a storage chest? He hardly had time to stop and check at this point. At least "pressure" apparently wasn't a concern in madworld. Water didn't act even _remotely_ like water in many ways, though that did mean he had no idea how deep he was. Should he surface? He could ascend _quick_ , but not _as_ quick as he could in the air, and he had to be at least eighty feet deep by now.

Twenty-five seconds. Didn't really have a choice now, he'd have to- wait. There, a tiny dot of pale yellow amidst grey and purple. Miles surged towards it, lungs burning. Sand. A single tiny patch of sand. He scraped at it to no avail, fingers simply distorting its grainy surface without managing to liberate a single grain.

Well that was madworld for you. He pulled out his drill, stabbing it into the surface and tearing into it just as he might for solid earth. Was it pure? Already tainted? Questions were fading as bubbles exploded out of his mouth. Dark spots danced in front of his vision as he swept everything into his hammerspace and struggled upwards, the endless black above showed no sign of giving way to air. Ulnah peered at him curiously in his desperate ascent, making no attempt to help as she watched.

He breathed. Foul liquid invaded his lungs, barely registering on his feebly struggling mind, still awake even as he died by virtue of the madworld logic, still spinning his tails that didn't burn even though he had no oxygen to feed them. He spasmed, still ascending, coughing out liquid even as he struggled not to breathe in more, harder and harder to stay conscious.

He erupted from the surface mid-spasm, a spray of glittering water drops spattering down around him as he spiralled uncontrollably through the air, straining to pull air into lungs and cough out liquid at the same time…

And his vision cleared, mind regained some of its clarity as he righted himself, spinning his tails to hover above the surface once more. Thanks to madworld's "glass half empty" principle, simply drawing in fresh air had refreshed his lungs instantl _y._ And even if it left his body and head both throbbing painfully from the damage oxygen deprivation had wreaked upon them, what was a little brain damage when he'd found some sand on the beach? Things were finally looking up!

Light reflected off the water as the sun peeked from behind the shore. Miles glanced up to watch the first rays of dawn as he discarded handfuls of tainted sand back into the depths below so as to not risk tainting what he had found.

But the sky remained dark. The dawn never came.

The sun, only its blazing orange corona visible in the black sky above, was completely obscured by the moon in a total solar eclipse.

And then the monsters came.


	50. Chapter 50

"Who are you?"

Eggman didn't like surprises, as a general rule.

He liked _surprising_ people, preferably as a perfect prelude to getting his gloat on, but recent years especially, getting surprised usually meant that someone - usually a hedgehog - had showed up and broken his best toys, escaped certain death, or dug deep and used heroic resolve to come out on top against all odds. Or, for _really_ surprising things, that he was going to have to work with that selfsame hedgehog to survive.

He certainly wasn't used to _positive_ surprises.

He rubbed his bald chin, frowning at the smiling fox standing before him in his makeshift audience chamber with escalating discomfort that was nothing to do with his stylistic choice to sit on a throne built on top of a giant magical rock. No, the Master Emerald's hardness against his tush was just the price of professionalism. But the fox was just different enough to Tails at a glance to be disconcerting. And they just kept _smiling_ , dangling the pink hedgehog behind them almost casually, blue eyes never blinking as they looked at him, heedless of the guns trained on them from all directions.

"I am observer unit Seven, Grandfather, designation Reason Robotnik."

Well, he didn't _hate_ the alliteration.

"I don't even know _where_ to start with that one." Eggman sneered, rolling the Chaos Emerald the fox had provided him between his gloved fingers. "You're the wrong _species_ , for a start."

"Affirmative, Grandfather, I am a ninth generation clone of Miles Prower, manufactured on board Death Egg Mark Two. Lady Robotnik is my creator and tertiary genetic donor."

Eggman snapped his fingers, a drone slipped out of a compartment in his throne, buzzing as a green scanning beam swept over the fox. Data rapidly flashed across the lens of his glasses.

"So it's true." Eggman rubbed his chin again. "Except I don't _have_ a daughter, fox _girl_."

"Affirmative, Grandfather. Lady Robotnik has not yet been been manufactured aboard Death Egg Mark Two, and has already expired. As the sole Robotnik in this time period I am at your command."

Ugh. Time travel. He _hated_ time travel. And manufactured? Figured. Nobody appreciated his stunning physique or keen mind it seemed.

"Were you responsible for Tails' disappearance?"

"Negative, Grandfather. I was assigned to infiltration and passive observation of subject Sonic the Hedgehog in the absence of Miles Prower. Your order "Hand over the emerald with nobody getting hurt" has been completed. No operations are currently in place. Please assign further orders."

"Ugh…" The pink hedgehog stirred, gazing blearily about herself. "Tails… what- _Eggman_?!"

"Ah, excellent timing." Eggman steepled his fingers with a dark grin. "Unit Seven, kill her."

The fox blinked for the first time.

"Please confirm order, Grandfather."

"Grandfather? What?" Amy Rose wriggled against the fox's tails coiled around her. "Let me _go_! Tails!"

"Why are you hesitating? Do it now!"

"Confirmed, Grandfather. Terminating Unit Eight."

"Tails, ple-gk!" The pink hedgehog could do nothing as gloved hands slipped around her throat.

"Wait, unit _eight_?"

"Affirmative, grandfather." Reason loosened her grip, still smiling. The hedgehog gasped in a wheezing breath. "A neurological override chip was installed in this hedgehog during the invasion of Little Planet by Lady Robotnik to aid in future operations. Her support and assistance were vital to the success of my infiltration."

She pressed her hands once more to the hedgehog's throat.

Eggman frowned. This was usually the point that he was successfully calling the do-gooder's bluff, not watching a child strangle someone to death with a smile on their face.

"Stop."

"Affirmative, Grandfather." Reason released the hedgehog's throat. Her head lolled limply to one side. "Please assign further orders."

Eggman stared at her, frowning as that placid blue gaze stared at him. She... wasn't his style. This calm, emotionless killer…

"I'm too busy for this. I have a planet to conquer." He rubbed his forehead with a sigh. "Escort them to a cell, I'll deal with them later."

"Affirmative, Grandfather." Reason stiffened, then turned away.

"No! I mean you, too! Ugh. Eggpawns! Go!"

He shook his head with a sigh. Even his daughter would have trouble making decent minions, it seemed.

* * *

In all of history, sapient or otherwise, flight was one of the single most important achievements of any species since creatures first clambered out of the ancient seas to the land above.

Flight allowed a creature to reclaim the advantage of its watery forebears, to supplement a largely two dimensional existence with the third dimension once more. Simply being able to fly was such an advantage that it single-handedly redefined warfare, propelled species towards the top of the ecosystem, and permitted totally unique strategies to exist.

As Miles rode the back of a moth ten times his size and burning with as many different types of fire as he could stick to it, batting aside swarms of transforming bat-humans and flying orbs that turned into aviatic blenders the moment they came close, he was forced to conclude that this advantage was generally at its best when the airspace _wasn't_ saturated with murder.

Then again… the shadowy corruption below crawled with mostly human horrors, insect-heads throwing flasks of burning acid, pig-heads with whirring chainsaws that roared futilely up at him, undead mutants with eyes or mechanical components, scraggly haired children crawling on all fours…

And scythe wielding horrors that were, if not ghosts, close enough to leave knots in his stomach.

Miles flicked his wrist, rapier leaving rainbow trails through the air as he sliced through the moth's wings and into a stabby ball, slicing cleanly through the metal exterior to leave it as so much burning confetti around him. He flew on, a bat that had the temerity to turn into a human in his path turning into scorched paste.

He couldn't stay out here. He hadn't noticed any obvious changes so far, but with the way the moon tracked the sun through the sky unlike any ordinary eclipse that meant that there was something grimly unnatural about this event, and that likely meant corruptive in some way or other.

A laser blast from a zombie with a giant eye for a head scorched from the earth below. Miles retaliated with the Whammer, swinging it directly into its "skull" to smash it to chunks before swooping low, rapier tearing through the crowds of monstrous humanoids with ease as he slipped into the comparative shelter of the catacombs entrance, dragging cubes of dirt from wall to wall in an instant makeshift barricade before stumbling in through the door, a scythe blade cleaved through both a moment later, ignoring such mundane physical barriers entirely. Miles cleaved the spectre asunder with a surprised yell.

Thankfully they lacked the unstoppable nature of _his_ ghosts. He could rationalise them as some kind of specialised hologram or something. Still not a good sign. It might be safe from the moon's taint in here, but if anything bigger than these things could phase through the walls then he'd be a sitting-

A masked figure, previously unseen, slipped from the shadows, blade shrieking metal on metal through his armour. Miles screamed, tearing the knife from the human's grip as he twisted to bring his rapier up. Two flaming halves flopped to the floor and sizzled away.

That did it. Miles yanked the blade out with a grimace, dousing the wound with honey with now well-practised movements and headed for the stairs down into the depths once more.


	51. Chapter 51

A shining knight wandered the land of the dead, gilded armour bolstered against all the horrors the subterranean tomb had to offer, the hammer in his hand unblemished despite endless use.

But as thick as his armour was, it offered no protection to the aura of undeath that seeped from the walls themselves, sapping life and will to leave only determination and violence within.

The knight tramped forward, only the soft clinking of metal and the distant rattle of bones disturbing the deathly silence as he descended with aimless tenacity, halting for a moment beside an ornate table cluttered with glass tubes and alchemical tools before walking on with numb disinterest, the light of a hovering fairy ignored above its head.

"Is someone there?" A woman's voice broke the hush.

The knight halted, eyes scanning the darkness, hammer at the ready.

"I know you're out there. The traps wouldn't be working otherwise." The voice came again. "Please, get me out of here?"

The knight hefted his hammer, accelerating towards the noise.

A scythe blade sliced down from the ceiling, neatly slicing through the back of the knight's head and out the front. The knight dangled limply from the blade a moment before flopping to the floor, hammer clattering to the ground from numb fingers, body burning away to ash as the catacombs claimed their prize.

Miles sighed, visible once more. He disconnected his grapnel and dropped to the floor, slipping the scythe that was far taller than himself into his hammerspace with vague discomfort before swapping his invisibility knife back into his dominant hand.

"I'll be right with you." He muttered into the dark. He was running across a lot of damsels in distress while he was underground. It seemed probabilistically unlikely. But hadn't Cosmo been down here before? Or an equivalent on her own world? Was there some pattern to this? A repetition world to world?

Focus. Miles blinked glowing blue eyes, staring down at the glorified fantasy chemistry set with as close to a smile as his numb state could muster. His body started to fade the moment he stopped walking.

He hadn't expected to find anything of the sort down here, but it was almost like a sprawling city. A trap filled, skeleton infested, city that was slowly seeping in through his pores... well, nowhere was _perfect_. But this, he could use this.

But not now. He'd been down here exploring so long, gathering books and messing around with the rudimentary electrical circuits, evading the even more nightmarish horrors that had invaded the world above that his fur had turned greyish white and faintly transparent - as, apparently, had the skin beneath.

"... Hello? Are you still there?"

"We'd best go, eh, Ulnah?" Miles stretched out a diaphanous hand to catch the hammer the skullfairy presented him, flickering back into view once more as he did. Like the Whammer - and all the other weapons he'd found, rather than forged - it was too big for him to wield comfortably. "Hey, maybe I should reforge some of these? What do you think?"

"Ulnah mgkadishtu?" The fairy stared at him, eyes glittering from her skull.

"It'll be fine, I'll wait until we're out of here at least. Just don't let me forget the chemistry table, alright?"

"Ulnah mgepahmggoka!"

The mismatched pair flew on, Miles tearing through skeletal guardians without slowing while Ulnah collected a steady stream of remains, books, and more exotic items as they traversed corridors full of spikes and traps that might have been difficult or dangerous for someone that actually had to _walk_ now and then.

It didn't take long to find his target, a red-headed human girl in yellow coveralls bound head to toe with rope. She eyed him warily as he approached, dropping a safe distance from her with similar caution.

"Hi!" Miles raised a hand. "Are you a creepy ghost monster in disguise?"

"I… don't think so?" She looked the ghostly fox up and down with a frown, lingering on his glowing eyes. "Are you a normal person in disguise?"

"I don't think so either." Miles shrugged. "But here we are, right?" His hand flashed forward, slicing her bonds with two expert slashes.

"Thanks." The young woman stood, towering over him as she stretched. "My name's Selene Carter. You killed my father, thank you."

She extended her hand, pink and healthy, unaffected by her time there in the dark in the slightest. Her red hair and mechanic's attire reminded him of Doodle.

"Miles Prower." He shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you in the flesh, Mister Prower." Selene smiled sadly. "But I think you know I can't do anything to help you."

"That's fine." Miles nodded, his almost smile glittering in fairylight. "Tell me all the things you can't do for me with while we get out of here."

* * *

"This is taking too long!"

Shadow knelt on the ground, panting heavily. Blood and worse spattered his body, the remains of splattered eyeballs littering the ground around him.

"Having… trouble keeping up?" Sonic smirked, leaning against a bone stalactite to conceal his own exhaustion.

"Shut up and cover your side." Shadow scowled as four Knuckles appeared on each side of him, each lunging forward as one.

"Top left!" Sonic yelled, lunging out of the way of an eyeball as big as himself before hopping back into it, spines first.

Shadow twisted, unloading a salvo of bullets into Knuckles' face without hesitation. The other images faded as the echidna leapt back, twisted flesh warping back to normal in scant moments.

"You cannot win, _Chosen_." Knuckles spat metal cylinders to the floor one after the other. "I am not _alone_."

How long had they been fighting? Even the flares were starting to dim, but Knuckles just kept going, his twisted body torn and repaired time after time, blow after blow. He'd already managed to hit Shadow once, a lucky shot, but luck was all he needed when he had time on his side.

And he _definitely_ had time on his side if this kept going. Sonic could feel the precarious balance of the twin taints within him starting to shift and accelerate. Not a _weakening_ , quite the opposite, he could feel the presence of the alien monsters, and Knuckles, more keenly than ever, could feel his body repairing itself more quickly, strength flowing through his arms…

And he could hear the whispers more clearly than ever.

But even if they weren't wearing Knuckles down, the same couldn't be said for his army. Sonic lunged forward, kicking the final eyeball into Knuckles with all his might. It passed through without resistance, splattering against the far wall, but Shadow followed up a moment later, barrelling into the giant's chest with a burst of speed to knock him flying backwards into a meat altar. Knuckles screamed as the impact provoked the devastating backlash once more, blood spraying from his lips as he collapsed to his knees.

"Now!" Shadow followed up the advantage without hesitation, smashing his foot into Knuckles' head to send him sprawling.

Sonic followed suit, teeth gritted as he slammed into his friend's prone body with the force of a falling star. Knuckles let out a pained grunt, unable to stand as the two speedsters brutally struck him time and time again, slowly whittling their way through his unnatural resilience.

Could this kill him?

He felt sick to his stomach. Normally facing Knuckles he'd try to wind him, or at least trick him into going against whatever trick had set the gullible echidna against him in the first place. He was _tough_ , sturdy enough to take a beating without having to worry too much about any permanent injury.

Not like this though. There was no choice but to go all out, no choice but to keep going no matter what - not that Knuckles was begging for mercy or anything. Sonic slipped around lightning punches to deliver blows of his own, his own body starting to ache from the endless abuse _he_ was meting out…

And Knuckles finally stopped swinging, flat and still on the ground, torn and battered body still twitching, still healing, but slowly.

"...Fools." Knuckles bubbled through torn lips, arms wrapped over to protect his vitals from a salvo of bullets. "Didn't I tell you already?"

A blast of crackling red energy erupted from the darkness into Shadow, blasting him sideways with a flash of light.

And Sonic felt something approach from the dark corners of the cave, beyond the light of the failing flares. Hulking, bloodied shapes stumbled from the dark, twisted, bloated features barely recognisable through the crimson corruption twisting their flesh.

And as the zeti loosed a chorus of rattling laughter that echoed from wall to wall, Knuckles' grim voice drifted up from behind Sonic, filled with dark amusement.

"I am not _alone_."


	52. Chapter 52

"T…Tails?"

Green eyes stared blearily up at Reason from the base of their cell, betrayed, confused. The skin under Amy's chin was marked with purple bruising just above her furline, and she moved with aching slowness from her beating at the hands of Rouge before.

"Ah, you're awake?" Reason smiled, brushing her fingers across the hedgehog's spined head.

Amy flinched backwards, dragging her wounded body away from Reason until she hit the bars of their cage.

"Are you hurt? I tried to be precise."

" _Precise_?!" Amy snarled. "You tried to _kill_ me!"

"Quite the opposite. I calculated this to be the optimal route in ensuring your survival with minimal harm." Reason coiled her tails around herself with a sigh. "I'm sorry, I couldn't leave you to be killed by badniks, Miles would have been devastated."

As would she, though explaining exactly why would have involved a great deal of additional effort in what was already going to be a tricky conversation.

"Mi… Tails?" Amy narrowed her eyes. "You're trying to trick me."

"Not really much point in tricking you, we're already in a cell. No offence, but your value as a tactical asset doesn't generally extend for beyond 'hostage', and that doesn't really depend on you doing much beyond screaming at the right moments."

Amy frowned, still glaring. "Who are you?"

Reason gazed back, jaw set.

"My name is Reason." She watched the larger hedgehog carefully for any sign of movement. "I am…" She paused. "Well… Let's just say I'm… a… girl Tails. From space."

"What."

Reason sighed. This would be easier if she could just talk to Doodle directly, but she wasn't certain what conditions caused Amy's digital alter ego to surface.

"I'll need a diagram and more maths than you're comfortable with to explain more precisely, and I'm happy to do that when we get out of here. But for now, suffice to say that Miles is my, um, friend."

"... Why did you lie?"

"Because you murdered my sisters, and I didn't want to be killed." Reason shrugged before settling back into her tails.

"I… what?" Amy blinked, gaze turning hollow.

She had no idea which Amy she was talking to. It didn't matter, it was true for both for different reasons, and she'd stripped Amy's hammerspace herself, presenting a surprising number of weapons to the badniks escorting them right before handing over the contents of her own hammerspace. Amy was no match for her unarmed.

"Yes, I wasn't lying about the override chip. When the chip deactivated you called me Tails, and I went along with it to try and save Miles and myself. I sacrificed the emerald, and the sample of the cure, to save your life. We are now, to the best of my knowledge, on Angel Island, where Doctor Robotnik has successfully claimed the Master Emerald and established a flying fortress."

"This is terrible!"

"We are exactly where Miles needed us to be. He needs a dimensional portal generator, and the Master Emerald will be the power source."

"And just how do you expect to do _anything_ from in here?" Amy rapped her knuckles against the solid metal bars, provoking a spark of energy from their surface. "Eggman isn't exactly an amateur when it comes to catching mobians."

"You forget that I am a loyal and faithful servant to Doctor Robotnik." Reason smiled, plunging her hand into the fur of her tails to pull out a small metal cylinder from the bountiful fluff. "Unfortunately I just didn't do a very thorough job when I was searching myself."

Reason pushed herself to her feet, a crackling green energy beam sprouted from one end of the cylinder as she squeezed its button in her grip.

"Come on, let's get out of here. We've got a lot of work to do."

* * *

The town wasn't the way he'd left it.

Miles alighted on the empty stone street, tails uncoiling with a now familiar absence of weariness as he gazed from one empty building to another.

The _stone_ was the same. That bland, homogeneous grey brick, broken only by occasional doors and gaping holes, but the sky, the _feel_ was unmistakable. That dull oppression that spread all the way up to the sun struggling to press down through the dreary haze.

The corruption had reached even here. Even if there was nowhere for the purple grass to grow, some undercurrent of the taint had still managed to work its way this far, permeating the area from below.

Miles frowned.

Could he even do anything about it? He'd managed to replicate the purifier liquid, but was ground penetration even a thing here? He'd managed to clear a wide spread of grass around the catacombs - including a section of beach to procure more sand, just in case - and it had even cleared the blackstone he'd tested it on without any trouble, changing it to simple grey stone in the blink of an eye, but he had no data as to whether it would work on a deeper level.

Not that he had a choice. Miles pulled out the conclusion of his conversations with Selene, externally barely more than a crude wooden copy of the sink he'd observed before, but internally a mess of pumps and wires, pipes and containers designed to constantly be drawing from a perpetually refilling series of Glass Half Fulls to pour a constant stream of purifier from the tap. Which it did the moment he affixed it to the nearest wall. Purifier soon flowed out onto the floor to produce a slowly expanding puddle of green that lapped stickily at his metal greaves.

That was… deceptively simple, all things considered. Miles gazed thoughtfully at the expanding pool of green as it oozed across stone with all the speed of the honey it was made from, turning grass green at the edge of town in a slowly expanding circle that gradually spread out through the trees.

That was it. It might never be completely purified, he might be too late, and he had no idea if it would soak into the ground beneath or if it would simply increase in depth and quantity until it flowed out to sea, flooding the labyrinthine cave networks in the process. But either way, the corruption was now officially in remission. From this central location it would flow out in all directions equally, all the way down into Hell through the massive shaft in the centre of town. There was just one thing he still had left to do.

Pulling out his drill, Miles bored a hole into the street, revealing bare dirt beneath.

"Ulnah, ring please." He held out his hand, accepting the portal ring from his skullfairy companion a moment later to place it neatly into the indentation. Bubbles came up from the portal as liquid displaced air on the other side, a slow but endless drizzle. She could just patch up the hole when she had all she needed, and the amount leaving the portal was less than his sink was putting out so it would keep expanding, albeit at a slower rate.

And… That really was it. He could build more sinks, but that was just accelerating things. Maybe some kind of automated digbot to make tunnels through the earth below but this was basically his scorched earth lava plan without the downsides, the corruption couldn't return where the purifier had pooled, and the sink would keep flowing until the tap was submerged - something that would presumably take months to happen based on the terrain he'd seen from above.

It was… almost fitting in a way how little fanfare there was. He'd read every book he'd found in the catacombs, well over a hundred and with a sneaking suspicion he'd left still more undiscovered, all describing worlds lost without him ever knowing. He certainly didn't _deserve_ praise for fixing his own mess here, barely scratching the surface of all that came before.

… Eh, screw it.

"Ulnah, high five." Miles raised his hand.

"Ulnah mgkadishtu?" The skullfairy left him hanging.

"You don't know what a high five is?" Miles frowned. "Can you actually learn new things? I'm going to have to try teaching you some tricks."

Well, for now he'd just have to find Cosmo and the Creams. Maybe Sept would high five him? Miles strode through the silent street, calling out various names and peering into doorways as he went.

And a hundred eyes watched him go.


	53. Chapter 53

Splash.

Splash.

Splash.

Miles had stopped calling out, ears strained against the quiet.

Those sticky wet footsteps, barely audible over the gentle trickling of purifier flowing from street to deserted street, building to empty building, the click of door handles as he opened one identical room after another, the gentle flutter of Ulnah's wings as she flew behind him in dutiful silence.

Nothing.

Nobody.

The dull worry gnawing at his stomach increased.

Where were they?

A dull rumbling shook the earth below. Miles paused, frowning. Earthquake? Some reaction to the purifier?

There was nothing more. Miles walked on.

Had it been the eclipse? A blood moon while he'd been in the depths of the catacombs?

One of the "real deal" outsiders come to lay waste to everyone in his absence?

The door to the pit room lay open, its interior shadowy even compared to the struggling light outside. There was no sign of any damage from before.

No sign of where Dante had sacrificed his life to "banish" him to safety.

Had the others jumped down to escape? There was a certain hope if they were underground, right?

Another tremor ran up his legs, putting his fur on end. Miles lingered a moment, door splintering in his grip before he turned and kept walking.

At least the oppressive aura of the corruption was fading to a different kind of oppressive aura, the enforced brightness of the hallow, shining rainbows arching through the air in the distance. Odd how he hadn't noticed them before, but perhaps the unusual was to be expected in madworld?

Miles walked on. With the bottomless pit providing a drain for the purifier its spread across town had stopped. He left green footprints on grey. Definitely going to need to make more sinks. Low priority right now. Finding everyone was most important at the moment. Finding _any_ one.

"You shouldn't be here." A familiar voice called out in sing song tones.

"Cherry?" Miles turned towards the voice.

"Hello, _Fiona_." The pink haired human was leaning against a wall between two buildings, grinning. "But you really shouldn't stop to chat with me. She's already seen you, after all."

"Who?" Miles glanced around. "Cosmo? The two rabbit girls, are they safe? Have you seen them?"

"Hm? Nobody else around but her though?" Cherry shrugged. "I'd tell you more, but... Well." She laughed. "I'll be in trouble if I say much more than goose, goose, _duck_."

Miles dropped. A metal ball scythed through the air where his head had been, blades clicking back into its thick metal chassis as it bounced off the stone floor.

A sphere from the eclipse. And… its friends?

Miles glanced around. There were dozens now, floating out from broken rooftops and empty alleyways he would have sworn were empty when he checked them before, loosely surrounding him in a circle in the sunlit sky above.

Cherry was nowhere to be seen.

Well, that was probably for the best, actually. Nothing like a target rich environment and no risk of collateral damage.

Miles flicked his wrist. A blazing skull screamed from his palm, spinning in place in the air before him. Crackling lightning bolts lanced from its hollow eye sockets at any sphere that ventured close, igniting them in violet flames on contact.

It had been worth catching up on his reading after all, even if his head was growing increasingly crowded.

Slipping away from the alleyway before the skull could dissipate, Miles slipped out his "Prism" rapier, now forged to his size and its once shining blade now tempered a deep midnight blue using the grim material of the reaper's scythe. A quick slash neatly bisected half a dozen orbs with a flash of technicolour light and flame that extended far beyond the blade's actual length and he was free, clear of their encirclement and soaring up into the open sky.

Nothing too menacing. Now he was clear he could easily fly out to the jungle and-

The ground below disappeared into a gulfing chasm full of whirring blades and jagged metal teeth. Jaws over five times his size clamped down at him as the mechanical monstrosity hurtled up into the air, trailing a serpentine form behind it. Crimson laser beams blasted after Miles as he dodged aside, fired from a series of robotic eyes built along the metal worm's seemingly endless coils as it plunged back into the earth, carving its way through stone like it wasn't even there.

Miles dashed into it, Prism flashing fast enough to leave an afterimage as one rainbow blade after another sliced straight through the robot and out the other side, chasing his target effortlessly through stone. He landed on its flank, racing along its body, blade tearing through laser eyes before leaping clear once again, the deep gouge along its surface was swiftly dragged into the depths. A few of the eyes burst free of the worm's damaged surface, taking flight. A moment later a whirring chainsaw mounted an arm of metallic bone thrust up through the unharmed surface of a building, sparks flying as the teeth glanced off his armour without quite connecting.

"Oh come on!" Miles flew higher as a familiar skull face surged up from the earth below.

Mr Skin, only this time clad in glittering metal bands riveted onto bone, glowing red orbs replacing its endlessly dark eye sockets, four metallised arms topped with deadly machinery and cannonry. The sky was filled with projectiles and laser eyes from worm and skull, whirling spheres of blades charged at him from all directions with almost absolute silence.

"Aren't you normally more talkative?" Miles spun in midair, slicing another wave of spheres to pieces. Silence was replaced by the chattering of-

Oh no.

Miles wrapped his tails around himself, dropping from the sky as his flight mechanism became ablative armour.

The mechanical teeth bombs hidden in the spheres all detonated as one. The shockwave ruptured his eardrums and the blast shredded his tails. He slammed uncontrollably into a stone roof a moment later, blood spattering its flat surface.

This wasn't... _normal_.

Miles flicked his wrist to loose another stationary defence skull, scrambling out of the way as Mecha Skin fired a bomb the size of his head from one of its "hands". The ceiling vanished behind him, the lightning from his spell loosed fresh teeth bombs from his aerial attackers. He leapt, rolling on impact as the roboworm erupted from the floor, barely passing over his head.

Teeth bombs that didn't break the stone, regular bombs that did, and two robots that ignored that stone anyway. The rules weren't even _consistent_.

Momentarily shielded from above by the massive worm's body, Miles downed a bottle of honey, wincing as his shredded tails reformed partway before pouring the dregs over himself. Enemies were _supposed_ to be tied to their environment, teeth bombs and blade spheres showed up in mutually exclusive celestial events, all the " _real deal"_ he'd encountered so far had either showed up at night or in response to some external trigger - the butterfly, the flower - not roaming around in the middle of the day pack hunting together. It was as though their only shared trait was that they were mechanical-

Oh no.

A crackling green energy whip snapped around Miles' ankle, yanking him out from beneath the roboworm and slamming him into the far building hard enough to crack the wall.

"Oh, _Zeena_." Miles groaned.

Powerful enough to handle herself against most enemies she faced, yet sedentary by nature, Zeena sequestering herself in town had been only natural. And given her natural Zeti mastery over technology any mechanical horror that this world had thrown at her had only bolstered her arsenal.

But no matter how strong she was in this place, there was one thing that Zeena, with her lack of exploration of this hostile environment, had no defence against.

"Mghri... ah'n'gha."

The horned maiden floated in the middle of the street, surrounded by a swarm of the floating red eyes and blade spheres. Once green skin was now a glowing yellow, once yellow eyes blank empty white orbs blazing with inner light.

The Hallow had claimed her completely.

And he'd sent his companions to meet her.

Miles grimaced, straining against the crackling energy whip that bound him. Zeena raised her other hand like a conductor, sending a wave of blade spheres towards him, clicking emanating from their metal shells. Mecha Skin launched another explosive shell at him, metal grin unchanging as it loomed above.

Now. He flicked his fingers out, sending his grapnel into the side of the roboworm passing behind him. There was a brief competition between the thousand tonne mechanical monster and the eighty-four pound Zeti before she was yanked along after him, skipping across the surface of the street like a pebble across water. She passed through the explosion meant for him with an incoherent cry of rage.

"You should- ah!" A laser bolt burnt off his ear. Miles flicked a damaged tail to send the other end of his grapnel into a neighbouring coil with a grunt. "Probably let go! It's going to be a bumpy ride!"

He yanked on the chain to drag himself out of the path of another shot. Zeena yelped in pain behind him, the energy coil released as he slammed into the side of the worm once more, groaning as his tails spun into life, propelling him backwards as he slipped out his rifle, spraying a torrent of flaming pellets into the metal skull spinning towards him before tossing a skull of his own out to greet it. Mecha Skin burst into three different colours of flame as it slammed through his magical projectile and into the worm that was his momentary platform.

"Psh. The _real_ one didn't burn. You're just a cheap copy." He stabbed at it with Prism, lances of light slicing through its jaw and into the worm beneath him, a fourth flame engulfed the mechanical skull, metal plating warping in the inferno.

The worm split into chunks beneath him without warning. Miles barely had time to yelp in surprise as his foothold disappeared, sending him tumbling down to the ground once more in a splash of green, surrounded by hunks of twisted metal scrap. His helmeted head clanged against the stony surface, ringing between his ears. How far had he been dragged?

Keep moving.

Miles launched his grapnel, pulling himself sideways across the street as a kamikaze blade sphere detonated behind him. Their numbers were thinner now, at least. Just a few more left, along with the Mecha Skin, now sprouted spikes and spinning towards him like a buzzsaw, and Zeena.

Wait, where _was_ Zeena?

A claw smashed through the wall beside him, tearing through the metal of his breastplate and slicing into the flesh beneath. Miles wrenched himself free in a spray of red, leaving a chunk of himself in her grip as he bounced across the road. The giant skull slammed down into the space he'd been held just a moment later.

Of course. Miles splashed a bottle of honey over his wound, coughing up lung tissue. Blood mixed into the purifier at his feet in lazy spirals. He might not have any electronics for Zeena to disrupt, but she was still far stronger than he was.

And his tails were still in tatters, too damaged to fly. He rolled them across the purifier soaked ground as he heaved unsteadily to his feet.

A blade sphere came close. Miles punted it into the wall where it fell still. No teeth bomb in that one. Where was she? Skin was visible again, still spinning as it hurtled towards him. Miles stumbled to the side as it rolled past, slicing off a handful of spikes with the Prism before falling to his side, dizzy from the blood pouring freely from his open ribcage.

Blade sphere. He sliced. It detonated, sending him skidding across the floor, the Prism blown from his fingers. Wait, no. He stared blearily at his smoking hand. His fingers were probably still with it.

"Ah'n'gha."

An energy whip snapped out around his shoulder, yanking him upright. A bolt from the Mecha Skin's laser cannon lanced into his armoured boot, engulfing the entire limb in sizzling heat.

Sad. Miles stared dazedly at the radiant Zeti floating above him, glowing as she was with that soft inner light. She'd probably be delighted with how pretty she looked right now if she'd kept her mind.

He flicked his purifier soaked tails towards her like a whip. Zeena shrieked as the spray of green liquid became green skin wherever it landed. The energy whip faded. She tumbled down to the floor after him, clutching at her face.

Until she hit the pooling purifier below. A convulsing foot cracked into Miles' jaw as she writhed, every movement covering her in more of the green liquid. Miles crawled away as best he could, wheezing breaths not enough to sustain him, already dim sunlight fading further.

"Ah, _much_ appreciated, Harbinger." Skin's smug satisfaction rasped from his own lips.

Miles flinched, turning to stare up at the metal skull still grinning down at him with deadly purpose, saw blade swinging down in a wide arc. He just needed another few moments for his mojo to recover-

A rainbow flash sang through the sky, splitting the saw in two. Miles dimly saw a fluffy white tail above him, frantic cries as someone shook him, Ulnah's face peering down at him from a very long way away.

Nothingness claimed him.


End file.
